


Citrus Smoke

by YanYan (ToyaFF)



Series: Nicotine Gum [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Background Het, Drama, Drunkenness, Illustrations, Incest, M/M, POV First Person, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 66,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyaFF/pseuds/YanYan
Summary: It is truly silly to think that the knowledge of him being my son would make me act this way.
Relationships: Scout/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Series: Nicotine Gum [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692955
Comments: 39
Kudos: 139





	1. The Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of re-imagining of a Oneshot I created a few months ago. Some references from it will be retold here but most of this story will be an entirely different work all together. If you have yet to read [Smoky Haze], I suggest giving it a look!  
> Also, Incest will play an important role in this story so do read responsibly!  
> Enjoy!
> 
> *Update  
> 1/20: I was in the itch to draw again, so slowly I'll be adding pictures as I go.

_There are many wrongs I have committed in my life._

It was a silly thought that echoed in the back of my mind, reminding me of the cruel and vile person I have become. Such words tugged at my cold heart oh so long ago. Now, it has become a humorist little quip I spouted whenever I cleaned my knife of blood.

I am a Spy, a man of mystery, seduction, _murder_.

Redemption for my deeds has long passed, and I have whole heartily accepted hell with open arms. It is not to say I do not have many good years ahead, but my time grows shorter by the day. The years of all my dreadful smoking are getting the better of me. Dizziness, fatigue, breathing– I have succumbed to each one many, many times. My life may have ended years ago if Mann Co. did not hire me. Not because of the surprising safety cap the job offers, but for the wonders of the respawn keeping me healthy.

My nicotine addiction has become quite a troublesome problem over the years, finding every opportunity to snap a new bud from my case. Depending on my death count, I can go through as many as two to three packs a day. Such a feat would truly kill a man– non, not I.

At least until my contract is finished.

After everything is said and done, I expect my freedom to be short lived as my lungs give away, consumed by my own troublesome addiction I refused to fix. Even if I tried to stop now, it would be too late.

The Doctor told me so after all.

Such thoughts were the least of my problems though, as another one was right in front of me. Yes, a certain young man who is overzealous in his actions, and quite frankly very, very loud.

“ _BOOM_! Blasted him right in his backside! Didn’t even get a chance to turn around,” Scout proceeded to yammer aloud to, well, practically no one at this point as everyone was either checking over their weapons or going through their lockers. The pre-game setup had just begun, Scout having yet to shut his mouth throughout the morning, spouting anything that came to mind. Supposedly, he was prepping the team up with morale support, but was acting more like an annoying demoralizing little wretch.

The boy waited for any recognition, watching as the Doctor purposely ignored him as he went to overheal Soldier.

“Yeah, well,” he continued on, doing a quick stretch forward with his arm. “Not many dudes are brave enough to challenge a Heavy up close and personal now. ‘Cept me, ‘course, I’m awesome after all.” He looked over towards Heavy, not even getting a look of notice back as the man ate away on a Sandvich. “Hey, fatty, better save that for later,” he pointed. That gave him a glare from the big man before he was properly ignored again.

Scout pouted, taking a look around the respawn before finding his next target. He tried his luck with the Bushman next, seeing if he could get some sort of reaction from the reserved man. The man was standing straight near the doors, focused in his scope, patiently waiting for them to open to make his first kill.

“Hey, longlegs!” The boy greeted. “Better be careful standin’ about like a moron. That’s a one way ticket in gettin’ yer brains blown out.”

“Hrm,” the man just mumbled back, still locked in his scope.

“Me? I’m more of an up close and personal dude,” Scout continued. “Can’t just sit around hopin’ some random asshole shows up– nah, I go lookin’ for them instead! More excitin’ that way, yeah? Just runnin’ along, mindin’ my own business, headin’ around a corner and then _WHAM_! Freakin’ Pyro with a flamethrower right in my face. Oh man, nothin’ more thrillin’ than beatin’ a guy with a baseball bat when you’re burnin’ alive, ya get me? Yeah? …Yo, ya even listenin’ to me?”

“Hrm,” the man mumbled again, most likely tuning the boy out now.

Unlike the Bushman, Scout had little patience in anything as he rushed around the room to find anyone else to bother. As amusing as it was to watch his futile attempts for attention, I thought best that he used that high-spirited energy on more useful things.

I tip some ash off my bud, finally speaking up, “Scout.” The boy whirled his head around, finding me resting my back on a nearby wall. “If you want someone to pay attention to you, I do believe the REDs will be more than happy to listen to whatever you have to say.”

The boy scuffed, “Psh! What? Like I want the attention from a bunch of old grandpas! Just sayin’ how it is, ya know. Guys are lucky to have me around cappin’ the points and rektin’ the RED Sniper and Medic and shit.”

I held a smile and quipped back, “Well, I truly appreciate you queueing me in on where the Engineer’s sentry is.”

“Oho! Aie, he’s good at that,” Demoman laughed over, overhearing the conversation. “His body flailin’ across the map helps with me sticky aimin’ it does.”

That in turn got Engineer laughing as he joined in next, “Need to learn where yer steppin’ son. A Sentry doesn’t need to be movin’ to get the job done.” He patted at his toolbox with a smile.

Laughter started to echo across each mercenary, some louder and others quiet. The look on the boy’s face exposed his irritation, scuffing again and pulling his hat downward to hide his expression away.

“Whateve’!” He snapped, rushing closer towards the spawn doors, Scattergun in hand now. “Just watch and see me kick ass! I’m goin’ to do so much freakin’ better than all of you fuckers combined!”

A few of the mercenaries continued to make snide remarks under their breaths, not putting much faith in the boy.

“If ve’re done gossiping like _children_ ,” Medic spoke aloud, not at all amused to join in the shenanigans. “Ve a match to win.”

“Da,” Heavy nodded, snugging his sandvich away and readying his mini-gun. “I am ready, Doktor.” The two men paired together, readying to head out and ubercharge through the enemy defenses. Anymore banter outside from battle had stopped, making the rest of the match play out like usual.

This had not been the first incent of this happening– many of the pre-game matches have gone in similar ways in fact. The boy would always try and self-praise himself on his accomplishments, only to be swiftly put down on his more blatant faults. It is not to say he does not deserve it– most of it was harmless banter in the end.

It was only recently that this Scout had joined our misfit team of murderers, the last one transferring out due to a contract misprint. They are known to be an infuriating bunch of rascals, and this boy played on the stereotype quite well.

Perhaps a bit too well.

There was something about the boy that brought back nostalgic memories, ones I had forgotten many years ago. They were memories of a youthful and younger me, egotistical and handsome as ever, surrounded by lovely women, each wishing my company and touch. Ah, but the opportunities to bed such delicate flowers have left me, now surrounded by rougher and fouler smelling _men_. My more _stress relieving_ services are not as welcomed here, for most can preoccupy themselves without the need of another.

While the boy was far in need for such services, I could not help but get this nagging feeling whenever around him. To most, such a niggling little feeling should not mean much– a mere subconscious overthought. My profession, however, does not allow me to under think such small things. There is a reason, and it is my job to find out why.

–

As the day soon becomes night and the building quieted down, I finally make my move and head out, a flashlight in hand. I am not one to prude pass the required necessities, but this is an extreme exception. There is a little area in the back of the medical room where the Doctor stores valuable files of everyone here. It is information that I needed, to understand this constant worry I held.

The Doctor may be smart enough to lock the doors, but not smart enough to lock them well. A simple jimmy with a bobby pin and the door opened itself, granting me permission inside. What was inside the room was no importance, for my true destination was further in the back– the Doctor’s storage room. Another simple jimmy or two with this lock and it granted me permission just the same.

I walked into a smaller area, crammed to the brim with boxes and shelved so tightly that Heavy himself would get stuck in-between them. Being thin and nimble, I easily squeezed through the shelves, shining my flashlight passed each box to find the exact one I was looking for.

_Excellent, here it is!_

A box just like the others around it, with a big white label on the front simply called _patient files_. With how easy it was to find, I hesitated to reach out in case of any traps. The Doctor is not a well experienced man in such a field though, so my worries were simply worries.

I placed my flashlight on the shelf, turning it to shine my way for easier reading. Carefully, I slid out Scout’s file from the box and searched through the contents inside. Page after page I read through it, learning useless trivia on the boy’s unhealthy obsession with _baseball_ and love for _Tom Jones_ records. Though, the distracting amount of injuries over his few weeks here indeed made his looks not far off from his childish behavior. Knee scraps, a broken nose, constant overdoses of sugar highs.

_Focus!_

What information I needed now was a last name, or a name of a close relative.

_Something… Something…_

_Oh non._

And finally I found it, information I feared would be true. Not only a name but as well as a picture of a woman. A beautiful woman– never could I forget such a face. It did not matter how recent the picture was, I could still see her refined charm as the first day I met her. Her neatly propped up bun, and her long silk dress that reached to her ankles. A woman not easily swayed by words alone, feisty but loving. A challenge I thought at first before I was the one swept away in her arms.

At the time, I was still young, filled with so much passion and energy. And I may have… acted on a bit more recklessly with her compared to others. A moment of love and lust overcame me one day, leaving me with terrible regret afterwards. It was hard for me to do– if I had the choice I would have stayed. Alas, like any other person I bedded, I vanished away, not wishing to take on the consequences that propped up during my foolishness. And here, after all these years, it finally showed itself in the form of the boy.

_Jeremy._

_Mon dieu…_

I snapped the folder shut and sighed.

That confirmed it then.

The Scout on my team is my son.


	2. Responsibilities

“Un moment, monsieur Scout,” I said, approaching the boy.

The pre-battle startup had just begun again, everyone readying and preparing themselves on the battles to come. The boy right now was standing about near his locker, sipping away on that BONK! he enjoys drinking oh so terribly much.

He looked my way, finishing a quick sip before replying back, “What’cha want, Spy?”

“I do not wish anything from you,” I began. “However…” I then take another step closer, standing in front of him now. The boy jerked back a bit, seeming perturbed by my taller height overshadowing his. Carefully, I reached a hand out, fixing the slight tilt on his mic set sat upon his hat. “Your set was not properly placed. It would be most unfortunate if you had to call in an issue only to find out your equipment ended up damaged, oui?”

The boy did not respond, only crooking an eyebrow in wonder.

I then looked down at his arms, seeing a long strap of bandaged tape dangling carelessly down. “Seconde, your bandages are hanging loose,” I grabbed his arm, wrapping the rest of the tape around his wrist. “Do properly wrap it correctly less you wish to rip your entire hand off.”

Whilst I was fixing him up, the smell the citrus whiffed passed my nose, realizing the awful morning breath that was spewing from his mouth.

“Mon Dieu!” I whiffed a hand in the air, quite appalled. Rudely, I snatched away the drink. “I can smell that you have not brushed your teeth. That or that vile drink you consume has deteriorated away all the fluoride. Go take a moment to brush your teeth,” I pointed towards the base, demanding quite forwardly for him to do so.

All Scout did was shake his head at me, expressing quite a foul look of disgust. His stare was not the only one, the rest of the men in the room looking over the same. Many held different expressions of befuddlement and awe or downright uncertainty. The awkward quietness was interrupted by sudden laughter as their stares turned behind. What they witnessed was the usual quiet Bushman hackling out like a madman. Soon, they joined in as well, laughing aloud and or snickering under their breath.

“Aie, now that ain’t nice, Spah,” Demoman chortled over. “Wee lad is young, but ye don’t have to go out of yer way to treat him like a baby.”

Scout said nothing, just clicking his tongue loudly and hiding his face away with his hat. He rudely pushed through me, heading towards the respawn doors and awaiting for them to open. My lonesome stare went on him before I glared back at the laughing hooligans.

“Ja, ja, zhat is enough, is it not?” Medic clapped over in attention, finally causing the other men to cease their bellowing. “Ve cannot have simple foolery overtake us.”

“Er, the Doc is right!” Soldier boasted aloud, trying to act as an innocent man– his laughter was by far the loudest of the bunch.

The others grumbled and nodded, going back to preparing again. The Doctor continued with his overhealing, charging everyone one by one, finally walking over towards the Bushman to give him his share.

“Ve need some semblance of seriousness here, Herr Sniper,” Medic began speaking, catching the man off-guard for a moment. “You know zhat best.”

The Bushman tipped his hat, mumbling back a, “Hrm.”

Once the quietness returned, my stare went on Scout again, his back on the wall, leg impatiently shaking to get moving already. Attempts to gain his notice were unheeded, so all I did next was walk over towards the waste basket, dropping the can and readying myself the same as the rest.

My façade of care was never meant to be a form of mockery– non, in fact I was deeply worried about the boy’s safety. It is truly silly to think that the knowledge of him being my son would make me act this way. Alas, my parental responsibilities have kicked in, now pestering at the boy about the littlest of things.

Even throughout the battle, my focus was more on him than my job. I followed behind in secret, risking my own well-being by taking the blunt of a _lucky_ headshot from a sniper rifle, or distracting the enemy Pyro my way. Again and again I respawned, coming back only to follow the boy.

My last respawn ended after a terrible encounter with a drunken Scottish man, charging at the boy only for him to bash right into me. I shuddered at the recent thoughts of my head cleaving off before brushing them aside, heading out to find where the boy had run off to now.

It was not long until I spotted him inside one of the mining buildings, looking through a large window. A rare sight to see– Scout was not one to play so patiently. I crept closer, uncloaking behind but not gaining his notice.

The serious look he held sprung into excitement as he whispered the words, “Jackpot.” What little I can see through the window was the enemy Medic hurrying further up– most likely killed off during the mist of battle. The boy pumped his Scattergun, readying to run out the building and catch the RED. I would simply allow it if not for a certain RED laborer and his setup right outside.

The fool should know better– there have been many times where I cannot help but watch as he jumped into action, only to frighten a rocket out from an unsuspecting Soldier.

He took only a single step forward before I got a good grab around his waist, pulling him back inside the building, doing it fast enough so he did not alert the tracking device the gun held.

Scout freaked out, wailing his arms about and screaming, “Get off me ya RED creep––!” I clasped his mouth, hurrying him out of view. My back pressed against the wall next to the window, taking a moment to get a good look out, finding only the RED Engineer outside. His concentration was on his Sentry though, queueing he had no idea we were nearby.

The boy squirmed about some more as I whispered over, “ _Shush! Boy, it is me.”_ He jerked his head back, eyes sprung open, confused to hear my voice come out from the flame happy Pyromaniac. I flipped my mask up, static and smoke dissipating my disguise away and exposing my true face.

The boy spewed a breath, “Jesus, Spy, way to freak me out. C’mon, get off me– their Medic is freakin’ out there!” His struggling continued, doing well enough that I almost lost hold for a moment before grabbing him again.

“Heaven’s sake– have you not learned how a Sentry works?” I berated, pointing a finger towards the window. He followed it, finally taking note of the Sentry below.

He paused and shrugged next, “So what, I’ll just run pass it.”

“Scout, non.”

“Psh,” he rudely spitted back. “Spy, I got this.” The boy escaped my grip, casually walking backwards, acting far too carefree.

“Scout, I need you to stay here– _right here_ ,” I ordered, pointing a finger where I stood. He tiredly blinked at the floor than back at me, truly caring less. I could already feel a headache beating in my skull as I took the moment to settle myself down and breathe. “Scout, just give me a moment to sap it. Then, you are more than welcome to deal with their pesky Medic––“

“Movin’ out!” The shout from the Texan bellowed below. My stare instantly went on the window, watching as the RED picked up his Sentry.

_Why are you moving your toys now you imbecilic cowboy!?_

My stare quickly went back on the boy, witnessing the look of pure adrenaline, his excitement making his trigger finger twitch. I had yet to say a word before he started running, charging into danger without a second thought.

The boy’s loud steps alerted the RED, making the fixing man only stumble back a step or two before throwing his toolbox aside, letting the machine slowly fire back up whilst he opened fire with his shotgun. Scout was more than happy to ignore the sentry all together as he bounced forward, blasting a shot right at the RED, able to land the first hit with complete success. The man still stood as he fired back once before getting blasted again by bullets. The RED cried out as he fell, the last of his life finally depleted.

“Shi––!” Scout hissed out in pain, falling over his next step. The spread from the RED’s shotgun was not able to hit the boy’s body, but enough of the bullets drove into the vital parts of his leg. Scout continued to writhe, looking back at the damage, seeing blood seep through his pants. He tried to stand, only to fall again. “Freakin’ serious?!”

The sound of the revving Sentry continued, growing closer to its fully upgraded self. The boy realized his predicament, stressing over on what to do. He fumbled about his next reload, giving up after the first bullet as he began shooting, missing terribly at the stationary target that sat just a few feet away. After enough missed shots, the boy made his final prayers, not even willing to watch his demise as he closed his eyes and prepared for death to come.

As much as I should be worried, I was far more annoyed. I sighed, placing my mask back on, hurrying over with my sapper in hand. The machine clicked on for only a moment before shutting down in a buzz of static and bolts.

_Excellent._

I pulled back the mask, looking over at the boy. He still lied on the gravel, face hidden between his arms. When he noticed that the gun had yet to fire, his head snapped up, seeing me in front of him now. His stare went passed me, looking at the machine before coming back.

“Heh, nice work, Fancy-pants,” he chuckled.

Anger got the better of me as I bended down, grabbing at his arms and pulling him up. “Hey, hey––! Freakin’ hurtin’ here,” he cried out, being far too overdramatic– the boy has dealt with worse, a simple bleeding leg is nothing.

I dragged Scout towards a safer area where a Medipack was nearby, carefully placing him down and against the wall. Another whine spewed from him before he finally settled in, watching as I opened the kit and began bandaging his leg.

Medical treatment is not my expertise, but such wondrous packs of material had almost magical properties, making such a skill not a requirement. Obviously, magic does not exist, no matter how much Soldier wished for me to believe. A simple strap of bandage should heal his wound up in no time though.

It was oddly quiet, the boy saying nothing as he continued watching me treat him. We made eye-contact. He held quite an irritated look of disappointment, whatever the reason.

“…That was a most foolish thing to do,” I quietly began, continuing to loop more of the bandage around.

“ _Annnd_ here we go,” once again, the boy rudely talked back at me. It was petty, but my next action was pressing a thumb onto his wound, placing heavier pressure and causing him to wince out in pain. “Owowow––! Spy, c’mon!” Once he got the message and I was satisfied, I released the pressure.

Obviously, kindness is something the boy does not want to earn.

My voice grew as I berated next, “You would have died if not for me!”

“Geesh, so what?” He shrugged the issue off. “I’d just respawn.”

“That does not matter!” I held firm on my tone, truly not amused with his attitude. “You cannot simply act without thinking– you are placing unnecessary harm on not only yourself but everyone else around you.

“Didn’t need your friggin’ help,” he grumbled this time, crossing his arms and pouting to the side, truly acting like a spoiled little brat.

“Perhaps you did not,” I told him, holding silent for a moment to focus on the rest of the bandaging. “None the less, I did so anyway.”

He looked back over and asked, “Yeah, why’s that?”

“What benefits would there be if I just stood there and watched you die? Other than for my own amusement,” I explained, holding a smile at the end.

“Fuck you!” The boy barked back, hurting himself some as he moved his leg a little. Even through his grunting, he continued on, “Nn, don’t act like you’ve been doin’ anythin’ useful! How many times have ya freakin’ died? Sure ain’t makin’ any of those _tricky-stabby_ plays today?”

As much as I wanted to retort back, the boy was correct. With my focus on Scout all game, I had yet to get much of the way of kills or anything else productive. I cannot tell him I have been stalking behind his every move– last thing I need is salacious rumors by the others. Many of my counterparts have been known to be a bit… _touchy_ at times and I did not wish to be labeled the same.

“Look,” I began, lowering my tone. “All I ask from you is to be more careful. I do not enjoy seeing you make such clumsy mistakes– you are far more skilled than the others believe you are.”

The boy opened his mouth for a moment but closed it. He expressed quite a worrisome look for just a mere second before it returned to his usual hotheaded self. His stare was away again, seeming uninterested to speak any more. I pestered no further, waiting for him to heal up so I could finally get some work done.

The heal of his wound formed back to normal, the only thing left being the open hole of his pants and the dry blood bleeding the clothe. He stood, moving his leg a bit before stomping it on the ground.

“If you are ready to head back out,” I asked, gesturing a hand out for him to go first. The boy said nothing back, taking out his gun and walking away. I believed everything to be set and done, finally finding the moment to relax and have a cigarette– such distractions have quelled my addiction for brief periods of time. Once I reached to grab my lighter, the boy’s footsteps stop. I looked forward, curious if he had anything witty to say back.

“Like,” he started, stopping for a moment. Scout looked deep in though– truly another rarity I never thought to witness. Finally he turned to look at me and said, “thanks for patchin’ me up and… whateve’.”

I showed him a smile back and replied, “Let us not make this a habit.”


	3. Vacation

I had hoped the boy would take to heart on my words.

How foolish for me to think he would.

The combination of his constant reckless behavior as well as my own workload had placed major stress on me, causing my performance to suffer greatly. My teammates have even called me out, going as far as to scold me, demand that I stop fooling about like a clueless rookie who cannot understand the set of rules Spies are meant to condone. My dreaded craving for nicotine only added fuel to the fire, helping my horrible migraines worsen further.

I thought things could not get any worse until utter nonsense started spewing from my mouth. Talks about _Rainbows_ and _Unicorns_ – _appalling!_ Petty words that held no true meaning– lashes of my anger and terrible disrespect. Words harshly placed on someone who just looked similar like the boy, wearing the color RED instead of BLU like I.

_Merde, I am better to go this low._

It was then I knew that I needed to leave this place, head back to normalcy of the outside.

I needed a vacation.

–

I had just walked into the commons, finding everyone crowded around, looking over their contractors and papers. The end of the month had begun, and Miss Pauling had made her visit over, issuing new jobs and tasks for each of the mercenaries.

The young woman looked as busy as ever, carrying an abundant of cases and papers and holding a phone near her ear, talking to whoever was on the other line. The dirtiness of her dress and the mess of her hair only showed the lack of time she truly held, her natural beauty all to show and not hidden away by chemicals.

“Yes, Pyro, your order for the new– let’s see– _Dra-gins Fur-ree_ has been mailed,” she explained over to Pyro, papers slightly crumpled in her hands as she wrestled with the phone in her other ear. Pyro muffled and clapped in excitement, hurrying away from the group. He spotted me, waving a friendly hello as I returned the same.

I had recently sent in a form asking for vacation leave, and Miss Pauling is the woman I need to talk with in order to make it final. The abundant of men had already become quite a hassle for her– what kind of gentleman would I be if I added myself to the pile.

I take the opportunity to prop myself nearby a wall, digging through my pocket to pull out my case. For once, I was more than happy to quell my addiction, smoking away without regret. As I waited, I focused around the room, noticing the boy standing further aside from the others, taking a breather. Carefully I watched as the boy wiped his hands on his pants before walking towards the group, squeezing through Heavy as he stood next to Miss Pauling now.

“Yo, what’s up, Miss P,” he began, shoulder on a wall close by, his arms and legs crossed. Judging by the stance, I believed he wanted to come off as _cool-looking_. That thought alone had made me snort, holding my bud in one hand and clasping my mouth with the other. I continued to watch, most curious on what was about to unfold.

Miss Pauling seemed distracted to notice though, still talking on her phone. “Tonight? Sure, sure, I’ll just, uh… I’ll squeeze it in somewhere– who needs sleep, hah!” She awkwardly laughed, her face forming a smile before frowning again. “It was a joke– yes, I’ll make sure I’ll have the time.”

Scout faked a cough, which gained Miss Pauling’s attention as she turned to look. However, her next say was in quite a hurry, “Huh? Oh, hello, Scout. Sorry, I’m afraid I have no contracts for you this month.”

“Oh,” Scout quietly said, all cockiness swept away in one blow. “That’s cool.” The boy returned to form, hands in his pants pockets now. “Not like I was gonna ask you out or anythin’– _ask_ you anythin’, I mean,” he fumbled some, trying to hold a smile.

Miss Pauling continued her busy work, seeming to forget about Scout all together now. The boy held his head low, stepping back, bumping into Heavy before squeezing passed him again. He stayed in the room still, back propped against the wall. Our eyes meet for a moment, his head turning away first, looking most sour. I shrugged, focused again on my bud.

Once everyone had finished and retreated away, I snuffed my bud away and walked up closer to Miss Pauling, greeting over, “Pardon, ma’dam.”

Miss Pauling looked my way, showing off such a sweet smile. “Oh, Spy!” She began, looking most excited now. “Something you needed? I mean– if I’m here than you being here means you need something,” she laughed next, purposely ignoring the loud voice vibrating from her phone. When the noise grew louder, she slammed the device against the wall with such anger and fierce before returning her gentle smile.

I held a smile the same and said, “Oui, it is about my recent request for some vacation time.”

“Oh, of course!” She let the phone fall as she reached through one of her many bags. “It’s around here somewhere,” she said, looking through one bag after the other, struggling to pull what she needed out once it was found. “One second! Little piece of––!” When she finally pulled it out, one of her bags spilled forward, creating a mess of papers around her feet. “Ah dam––! Darn it,” she cursed, legs hitting the floor as she scrambled about snatching her papers up.

“It is no trouble, ma’dam,” I said, bending down the same and helping her out. Are hands accidently brushed, the girl jerking back her hand the moment she noticed. There was a slight stutter in her tone and shake to her grip, as well as exposing a quite reddish flush on her face.

“Heavy help?” Heavy asked as he hurried over, getting to one knee and picking a piece of paper. Soon, the other men still remaining in the room joined in. Miss Pauling calmed herself, thanking over for all the help as she happily took papers from one mercenary to the next.

“Don’t worry, Miss P!” Scout boasted his attention, carelessly grabbing at the slips. “Psh, I can get your papers picked up so fast that––!” The boy’s words stopped as the sound of a loud tear echoed the room. Everyone witnessed the boy hold a long strap of thin paper in one hand, his other hand pressed into the sheet he tried to grab. “Oh shit! Uh, this wasn’t important– nah, totally not important.”

Miss Pauling sighed, holding a hand out to take the ripped sheet. Scout held quiet, properly picking up the paper and giving it to her. She took a quick glance before her face soured up, heaving another sigh.

“No, no, it is fine– tape will work, tape always works!” She forced a chuckle, the sourness she still held giving off quite mixed messages.

Once all the papers were picked up, Heavy helped Miss Pauling up, his giant hands able to wrap all around her slim waist. She fumbled standing for a moment before keeping straight, fixing the tilt of her glasses and brushing back some hair around her ear.

“Thank you, all of you,” again she gave her recognition, taking another check over with everything she held. Miss Pauling then looked at me, her pure smile exposing itself so openly. “You should be good to go as well, Spy.” She held up the slip I signed before throwing it into one of her many bags. The last thing she did was pick her phone off the floor– which was still bellowing out noise– and said her goodbyes, “Anyway, other places to be, killers to meet.”

Everyone in the room separated, talking amongst each other or heading towards the kitchen area of the commons, grabbing a drink or snack for the day. As much as I wanted to hurry back towards my room to pack, my distraction was on the boy. Again he sulked away, back on the wall with his arms crossed.

I thought over on this new found information, debating on the best possible approach I can make. Though, I soon found myself distracted by someone else. I see Demoman and Sniper, the two standing beside the other, taking notice of the boy’s moody attitude. The Bushman mumbled something and thumbed back at Scout, Demoman crooking his head over before nodding back. They then walked over to where Scout was, the boy reacting little as he peeked out from the corner of his hat.

Sniper looked as he was about to speak before Demoman began aloud, “Aie, laddie!” Demoman wrapped an arm around the Bushman’s neck, bringing him closer. “Gonna get a game rollin’ with Engie and Sniper here if ye wanna join!” He happily laughed, smacking a heavy hand on Sniper’s chest. The Bushman grunted a noise, pulling himself off the man and fixing his hat straight. He looked back on the boy, exposing the rare sight of a smile.

But Scout just scuffed, back off the wall as he sulked away and out from the commons. Demoman crossed his arms, quite puzzled on the reaction. And all the Bushman did was fiddled with his hat, his expression hard to visualize through his shades.

When Demoman noticed my staring, he shouted over, “Oi, Spah! Ye wanna join us for some cards?!” 

“A date for another time,” I said back with a smile, bidding my farewell as I made my way out of the commons next, going after the sad sod of a man.

_Ah, how can I let young love wilt away without helping it grow?_

A few corridors down and I finally found the boy leaning against the wall, tossing his baseball in one hand to another. He looked quite lonesome standing there.

I approached closer and asked, “Did you need assistance?”

The boy shrieked out from his daze, his ball fumbling from his hands and landing between his feet. He looked to the side, finding me standing there. His surprise turned into annoyance as he grabbed at his ball, continuing to pass it between his hands again.

“Man, ya gotta stop with the whole sneakin’ crap,” he grumbled, his stare away from me. He then brought it back and asked, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be goin’ out and havin’ a vacation or somthin’?”

“I still have yet to pack,” I quickly explained, wishing to get to the heart of the issue. “Enough about me though– it seems you have taken quite a fancy for Miss Pauling.”

The boy’s passing stopped, hands locked in place. A look of embarrassment was all over his face, and he seemed hesitant to speak.

“Er…” He stumbled a little before chuckling aloud and returning back to form. “Nah, nah, I ain’t like that with Miss P,” he explained with a hand wave. “I just, ya know, maybe wanted to hang out with her a bit. If you haven’t noticed, not many of the guys wanna really hang out with me.”

I crooked an eyebrow and questioned, “Pardon, but did monsieur Demo not just ask you to join in their little poker game?”

“Oh, you saw that?” He foolishly said, realizing he exposed his own little lie. He tried again, tone sounding normal before slowly speaking lower, “I mean, er… It’s complicated or some other bullshit.”

_Stubborn boy._

I shook my head and played along, “Well, if you wish to _hang out_ with her, you must make proper plans first. You do have plans, correct?”

“Yeah, of course! Like… Er…” He paused, thinking for a moment. A certain realization then hit him as he complained next, “Hey, why should I be tellin’ you anythin’ anyway?!”

“We are a team, correct?” I reassured over. The boy seemed skeptical, which was fair enough considering the man I am. “As fun as it may be to watch you fumble about like a fool, I do not wish to see you harmed.”

Scout scuffed.

His back went off the wall, standing straight now. Rudely he pointed a finger at me and began, “Look here, fancy-pants. I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to pull, but I ain’t in need of a babysitter.”

“Pardon, but I don’t know what you mean,” I feigned my surprise, wanting to curse at myself for slipping up so easily.

He seemed less than happy with my words as he continued on, “Don’t act like I haven’t noticed.” Again he held his finger towards me, bringing it ever so closer to my face. “You’re always sneakin’ about behind me like some _creeper_.”

“Oh, is that so?” I played on still, gently pushing aside his hand. He brought it back to his side, waiting to see what I would say next. So, I phoned in an excuse, “Well, never did I mean to _creep_ up on you, monsieur Scout. If it ever came off that way, it was me merely worrying over your safety.”

“Why would an asshole like you worry about me?” It was a fair enough question, which I was more than happy to answer before he answered for me, “Because we’re teammates or some bullshit? C’mon, you can do better than that, _creep_.”

His foul attitude was striking at my nerves. I tried asking politely, “I would like it if you did not refer to me as such a word––“

But rudely he interrupted by badmouthing again, “ _Creep_.”

_This absurd behavior is making a mockery of her!_

Believing that the boy was raised so awfully– non, he must know better, he just refused to act like a proper gentleman.

Again, I let my anger get the better of me, huffing back, “Fine, believe whatever you wish.” Rudely I turned my back at him, adding in a snide remark next as I started walking away, “Honestly, it was foolish of me to worry about such a _useless contribute_ to the team.”

My words of petty hate exposed itself again, and they indeed did not go unnoticed by the boy. My battle instincts began alarming, warning me of danger coming my way. I turned to look back on Scout, watching as he pulled back his arm before throwing his baseball towards me. Swiftly, I dodged aside, the object banging against the wall before rolling away.

Scout flipped me the bird and yelled, “Go fuck yourself!” And with those words he stomped away in the other direction, leaving me in quite a startled state.

I calmed some and then sighed, my formal annoyance now replaced with regret. Such words may have been too harsh– continuously bullying the boy will only do more harm than good.

My notice soon went on the ball still rolling, slowly stopping to a crawl just a few feet away. I walked over towards it, picking it up and giving it a good squeeze. The rubber firmness of it had worn-out, and small little pricks in the strings started to hang loose. Such an ugly state– I could see why the boy left without it. Such an object held tight in my hands still though, seeming almost lost in its old and raggedy look.

_…Merde, I need to get out of here_.

I tossed the ball aside with little care, continuing on my way towards my room.


	4. Blood

It was a rare occasion that I exposed myself so openly to the public, blending into the crowd filled streets of– what Soldier would proudly say– _god bless America_. It is a loud and filthy place, with a culture that is ever changing by the day. It has grown on me over the years though, and I have enjoyed partaking on the wonders of fast-food delivery. Ventures out to these lands are not so common, for my off times are spent on more lavish and clean places. However, a peculiar taste I wished fulfilled stemmed more than just greasy burgers and fries.

Women have always been my preferred choice, but gentleness was not what I craved right now. My experiences over the years have made me look towards other pleasures, opening a more obedient side of myself. I wished to be manhandled, feel the strength of firm hands pinning me against any surface, taking me in their mouth as they tear away at my expensive suit like wrapping paper. Such firmness is teased for me in battle, for many men I have failed to kill I am rewarded with their touch before death.

A big city held many opportunities for such men, opportunities I indeed found. A hardy young man– a constructor worker of the looks– who was more than eager to get his fill on something out of the norm. A peek of interest due to his work environment– that was mere speculation on my part though. Asking personal questions only lead down an unbefitting road, and I do not have time for simple talk and dinner.

The young man seemed incapable of making it towards the bed, his _eagerness_ more than ready to begin the moment he entered inside the hotel room and closed the door. This has not been the first– many reoccurring incidences have prepared me for such occasions. A simple reminder of safety and our lust-making soon began.

My still gloved hands pressed flat on the wall, my body being rocked against most relentlessly. Clothes had yet to be tossed aside as my suit held wide open and down my shoulders, exposing my open vest and stomach. My tie still strung loosely around my neck, whipping back and forth from the movements. The man stood behind, equally as clothed with only his pants down to his ankles, thrusting ever so deeply inside me.

“Ahaa… _mon Dieu,_ ” muttered words of French slipped by my lips.

Thrill I had at the start was slowing down, already huffing and panting, feeling my breath hitch every other thrust. The young man laughed, making fun at how my looks matched well with my lacking enthusiasm or energy. Such rude behavior is something I accepted from a cultured _American_ though.

His hand caressed down my thigh, rough fingers gripping around my still flaccid cock. He seemed disappointed, asking if I was underestimating his ability– far it be anything special if I were to criticize.

I phoned in my tone, pleading out, “Haah… Non, monsieur… Please, do keep going.”

The vacation I hoped to distress me ended up less than… _satisfactory_.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, half-clothed with just my crumpled suit now, staring at the floor. Smoke sizzled off my bud, the ash from the tip trickling down. Once again, I was alone in some filthy hotel, feeling completely dissatisfied. Not only from all the people had I bedded, but the low effort performance I gave through it all. Such problems before had cropped up time and time again– that youthful side of me had long passed.

_To have it get this bad…_

A sudden coughing fit began hitting me, taking my bud in one hand and covering my mouth with my other. I hurried myself towards the filthy bathroom, continuing my coughing there before finally stopping. My eyes opened, looking down at my hand.

_Ah, more blood again…_

Fresh reddish spots dirtied my gloveless hand, painting into my skin. Such a sight appalled me as I quickly went to twist the handle, letting the water drain the blood away. The bud I laid on the sink sizzled still, urging me to continue. What little left of it I decided to throw into the toilet, watching as it flushed away.

Venturing back towards the grim filled bed went with a haze, unable to close my eyes but feeling far too tired to keep them open. Troublesome thoughts kept popping up again, now and during the most unfortunate times, making whatever pleasures I wished to hold disappearing from my grasp. What the last thing I needed was the boy on my mind, and yet I could not help but worry.

People hired from Mann Co. are varied individuals, and not all if any are good. Some are hired of dreams for a better life, and others come to escape from past crimes they wished to forget. What information I do know from my teammates differ, but some even I would question about their morality and reason. Such words are ironic coming from a man who has committed every wrong– who am I to judge what is good or evil.

Still, the boy is foolish, and much younger and fragile. He can handle himself just fine against one man.

_Anymore though…_

My body rose forward in a panic, my sweaty hand clamped on my forehead now as I tried to shake away such horrid thoughts. All I wished was for a little distraction from work and yet it continued to follow behind, clawing into my back, pulling me to return.

_Mere overthinking– he is fine!_

Yet those words felt like lies, trying to push me back into a direction I have ventured for many years now.

_Merde!_

Thoughts overcame me, and the next thing I knew I was packing up my things, readying to head back towards work. My planned stay was for a week, but I could not stand another three days of this nagging torture.

I simply… needed to know if he was doing OK.


	5. Dangerous

“Aie, Spy!” Demoman said aloud, the first to notice my return back. I had just rushed into the commons, huffing and puffing, barely able to hold my suitcase steady. I looked to where he sat, seeing that the Bushman was also with him, the two sharing drinks together at a small table. Demoman held a look of concern as he then asked, “Ey, bad trip back or somthin’?”

I ignored his question and asked my own, “Pardon, how is the boy?” The two just expressed dumbfounded looks. “It is a simple question– do not make me repeat myself!”

“Ye talkin’ about the laddie?” Demoman finally spoke again, pointing a thumb behind his shoulder. My eyes followed the finger, finding Scout lazily lying on the raggedy couch in the middle of the commons, taking a nap of all things.

“ _Huuuh_?” The boy moaned all tired, forcing himself up, exposing his frizzled bedhead. “Who’s friggin’ callin’ for me?” He rubbed at his eyes before opening them wider, noticing my sudden return. The drowsiness of his face turned sour. “Why is the old coot back?” He complained aloud, falling back on the couch. “Now I gotta worry ‘bout his _creepy_ ass stalkin’ behind again.”

“Don’t we all,” the Bushman for once spoke only to insert his own little quip. That in turn made Demoman crack up in laughter, their chattering beginning anew again. And there I just stood about like a complete fool, my widen stare still on the boy.

_Hah…_ Indeed, everything I worried about truly was pure overthinking– how could I play such the fool! Worried about a boy who held no proper matters or courtesy for others– he truly would like it if I thought the vilest things upon him! Defilement and ill-treatment and or whatever sick fantasies these men withheld inside.

“Why don’t ye relax yerself, Spah,” the loudmouth drunk started spouting again, placing his filthy hand on my shoulder. “Ye must be tired from the trip––“

But I cared little, shoving his hand aside. The next thing I did was drop everything I held, rushing over towards the couch, standing in front of it now and glaring down at the wretched boy. He opened one eye before closing it again, rudely turning to his other side. I thrusted a hand forward, grabbing at his shirt and forcing him off the couch.

“Hey– Hey, what the fuck, dude?!” He cried, trying to pull back before finally stumbling to his feet. When the struggling continued, I placed pressure on his shoulder, demanding his full attention over. He winced, trying to push my hand away, only for me to counteract by placing more pressure.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” I shouted with such volume that I may have well alerted everyone in the base.

“Spy, tha– that hurts!” His voice stumbled, the vile attitude he once held now gone.

“You will get more than killed if you continue to act in such a way– do you understand?!” I shook him quite violently, demanding an answer. No reply, the only words spewing from his mouth being his own pained whining.

Before I could say anymore, someone suddenly gripped tightly at my arm, forcedly pulling me away from the boy and closer to its being. I blinked, caught in a slight daze before looking up, witnessing the dark glare of the Bushman staring down at me through his shades.

“Knock it off,” he gritted his words through his sharp teeth.

My stare soon went back on the boy, watching as he rubbed at his shoulder, muttering words of vulgarity under his breath.

“Lads, lads, no need to start killin’ each other,” Demoman said, coming closer towards Sniper and placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Leave that aggression for the REDs.” The Bushman irked his head back slightly before returning his glare down at me. Rudely, he shoved my arm aside, finally freeing me from his grip.

“…Yah a’right, mate?” he asked over to Scout, voice a little more sincere and quiet. Scout said nothing though, hurrying passed us all and heading out the room.

The look of slight sadness was on the Bushman’s face before his foul scowl turned back on me.

“Now what was that all about, Spah?” Demoman asked, showing over the rare sight of disappointment on his face. The Bushman crossed his arms, oh so eager to hear my justification for my sudden outburst. My mouth held silent, not able to think up an excuse from my less than rational behavior.

“…Pardon,” I finally spoke, tone quite quiet. “I need to unpack my things,” was all I could say as I walked passed the two, grabbing my suitcase and taking my leave out next.

–

Most of my day did indeed go into unpacking. Right now, I had just finished folding away my extra, extra pair of suits for emergencies. Such a dulled task should have taken less than a few minutes, but time ended up escaping me. I had come back to work around five, and now seven was soon approaching for the day.

I was quite exhausted, sighing aloud and walking over towards my bed, sitting at the edge. The usual slopped served here seemed appetizing today, for all I have eaten have been airline pretzels and cookies. But leaving my room seemed like too much of a hassle. Having even the slimmest chance in encountering Demoman or the Bushman or even the boy– non, that is something I wished to deal with tomorrow.

_Mon Dieu_ _, I need a cigarette…_

The moment my hand reached through my pocket and touched the brim of my case, there was a sudden knocking at my door. Such visitors are uncommon, which piqued my curiosity on the man wishing for my company. Ah, I had yet to speak with the Doctor for the day and he may wish to check over my health. When the knocking continued again I finally stood from my bed, heading over to open the door.

“Monsieur Scout?” I instantly blurted the moment I saw that familiar looking baseball cap.

Scout brought his hand down, shuffling it into one of his pockets. His other hand fiddled with his cap some before he finally greeted back, “Yo.”

There was quite an awkward pause soon after, the boy going quiet as I waited to hear his next say.

“Got a moment?” He began again. “Needed to say some things– won’t be long, promise.”

“…Very well,” I said, moving aside, displaying a hand out. Scout strolled in, taking the moment to get a quick look around– nothing I left out was anything important or interesting though. Once he finished that, his next destination was my bed as he plopped down, bouncing at the edge.

I closed my door, slowly following after with my gloved hands held together. Mere feet we were away now, my presence standing in front of him while he sat legged wide on the edge of my bed.

“Are you well?” I asked, eyes looking at the shoulder I placed firm pressure upon. The boy looked the same before uncaringly shrugging back.

“Yeah, I’m fine– didn’t even bruise,” he said, his easy-going attitude being quite open, which helped relieved some of my fretting.

I bowed my head and apologized, “Pardon for my hostilities. I may have been… stressed over some minor issues.”

“Said it was cool,” he remarked back, seeming a little annoyed now. He rolled at his hurt shoulder, his usual smugness spouting again, “Ain’t gonna get all whimpy-like because someone grabbed at my shoulder. Bros back home always tussled with me and let me tell you, no one likes it when their _balls_ are gettin’ squeezed so hard you can hear the crackin’.”

A small smile formed on my face, the stupidity of his humor getting to me for once. I calmed some, joining in the foolery, “Well, I will make sure to refrain from any _ball-squeezing_ in the near future.” That got the boy to snort back before calming the same.

“Anyway, I needed to say somthin’ and…” He began but stopped, his stare at the floor now and his fingers nicking at his bandaged tape. “...being a jerk,” the rest of his words finally came, but they were muttered so lowly that I could not properly understand.

I blinked, taking a step forward and asking, “Pardon?”

He sighed quite loudly, voice sounding more like his usual self now, “C’mon, gonna make me say it again? I’m freakin’ sorry for bein’ such an asshole, alright? Like, yeah, sometimes I don’t really think all too hard on what I say or do– ain’t gonna pretend otherwise. And my dumbass can’t help gettin’ killed over stupid crap– friggin’ annoys me how much I’m dyin’ because I jumped higher than I could land!”

I said nothing throughout his talking, quite in awe with the sudden turn of events.

Scout continued, “I’ve always been like that– couldn’t let people push me around just because I was the youngest and stupidest of the brothers. Like, I can’t really help that I still act this way– it freakin’ sucks, I know!” He sighed again, seeming unsure on what to say next now. “So… I dunno– I dunno what else I can say to you, Spy. Just, like– just accept my stupid apology or whatever or not.”

Never did I believe the boy to openly admit to his faults– a little aggression truly goes a long way.

“Scout,” I began, gaining his full attention. “In any other circumstance, I would take your half-hearted apology as utter rubbish.”

He interrupted, “Look, I’m just tryin’––!”

I held a hand out and interrupted back, “But! I truly appreciate it.”

Scout opened his mouth but only blurted out an, “Oh.” His soured look changed to one of honest surprise, and he had to take a moment to think on his next say. Once he did, he started chuckling, his arms moving behind, holding his body up. “Well, I guess for a _fag_ , ya ain’t so bad yourself.”

_Fagot?_

“Ex-Excuse me, what did you call me?” My voice stumbled, caught off-guard once again.

“C’mon, don’t need to pretend anymore,” his tone tried to sound consoling– though, it was far more sarcastic. He sat straight, doing another roll to his shoulder. “I know how handsome I am, but I ain’t into dudes nor old geezers.”

_Have I…?_

A horrid struck of realization hit me. My actions may have been more than questionable, but it is simply the knowledge I have learned in my work. I cannot be open for discussion– such valid information we share can be easily exploited, friend or foe or from the boy’s own foolish jibber-jabber.

“Monsieur Scout, I have to assure you my… unacceptable stalking meant nothing of the sort,” I tried to reason, assuring my motives were not ones of sexual interest.

“Cool, you admit that,” rudely he remarked back. “So if you _really_ don’t have the gross hots for me, what other reason do you got? I ain’t buyin’ any of that worryin’ crap anymore either.”

As hard as I thought, the right words would not spew from my mouth. Truly, I was baffled.

Anything had to do, and I quickly thought of the first thing that popped into mind, “Non, it was… mere provocation.” It was such a horrendous lie that a child– let alone the boy– could easily see through.

Scout began laughing, so hard in fact he clasped a hand on his mouth. “Oh man!” He slapped a hand at his knee next and spewed a breath of air to try and calm down. “I just cannot believe… Just wow! You really freakin’ _like_ me that way. And here I thought a guy like you held standards.” 

“Non, my motives were for pure entertainment and nothing more!” I refuted his claims, my tone most serious and straight. His assumptions may not be completely false, but my intentions towards him were never that– never would they be that!

“Really? You’re still tryin’ to weasel outta this?” He held such a cheeky expression that fueled further in my annoyance.

_I cannot lash out yet again!_

“Ya know,” Scout went on. “For a guy who’s good at the whole _fabrication-expressive-business_ thingy or whateve’, you sure ain’t doin’ a good job at it right now.”

“And you are obviously good at telling faces.” My annoyance was more than prevalent now, and the boy could tell.

“I know when someone is talkin’ shit.”

“Do not assume things from me, monsieur Scout. Especially knowing the type of profession I am involved in.”

“Look,” and the boy yet again acted out his feigned concern. “I’ll forgive all of your bullshit if you just admit you’re a huge faggot. And I won’t even say nothin’ to the other guys, I promise!”

_Is Scout attempting to blackmail me?_

_How ridiculous!_ At worse, the boy would only provoke anger for some– not all men saw eye to eye in same gendered love-making. Such unnecessary gossip is left back at school amongst children, not grown men fighting in a war.

“C’mon, Spy~,” he whistled out. “Admit I’m right~”

To believe that he may have had some semblance of courtesy for once– I have learned better to be so deceived. Fine, I do not wish to act upon in such a way, but he would never learn if he just carelessly throws threats he cannot handle the consequences too.

I held my tone quite serious now, finally giving the answer he wished spoken, “Very well, I am– what you say– a _faggot_.”

The boy sparked up in laughter, again clasping at his mouth, “Holy shit, you totally said it! Ha!”

“Judging by your attitude,” I spoke aloud through his bellowing. “I suppose you think down on such people.”

His laughter started slowing down, properly speaking again, “Hah… Huh? Oh, well, it’s really––”

“Immoral?” I interrupted.

He stumbled, “Uh, well…”

“Disgusting?”

“Yeah, I mean…”

“ _Dangerous_?”

“Uh…” That last word made him pause. He then forced out another chuckle, “Heh… Alright, alright, don’t take this so seriously now. I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to anyone.”

I suddenly moved closer, my taller height now overshadowing him. He looked up, quite perturbed with my sudden action.

“If you believe me as such an… _abnormality_.”

My hands then slammed on both sides of the bed. I bended forward some, bringing my face so uncomfortably close that the boy leaned back in a panic.

“Then you were an utter fool to enter my room so willingly. And _alone_.”

I brought one hand off the edge and placed it gently on his shoulder, causing it to jitter upward from my touch. Scout’s widen stare was at my hand before slowly looking back on me.

“Hey– Hey, Spy…” He finally spoke, but his voice faltered terribly. “I– I said I wasn’t gonna say anythin’, c’mon.”

“What do you believe I will do now, monsieur Scout?” My tone held eerily low and quiet, and I expressed little on my face.

He choked, “Uh…”

“Push you down on this bed? Tear away at your clothes like they were the flesh of your own being?”

Scout only held silent this time.

“Use you as an object to be discarded? Break you down to the point you’re less than your formal self?”

And again, the boy said nothing, not even having the courage to look at me anymore as the front fold of his hat hid his eyes away. Truly, I had expected some form of resistance or back talking. Non, all I got in return is a young man afraid to take action.

_The boy is afraid of me…_

A blink of sadness expressed on my face before I returned to form. “…I am not that type of person,” I said, taking my hand off. “And you should be glad for that.” Slowly, I took a few steps back, making good enough space between us again. Some courage returned on the boy, blinking over, holding an expression that was hard for me to properly tell.

Perhaps I went a bit too far– but the boy must understand that his mouth creates more foes than friends. A youthful man such as him has yet to delve into the true harshness of the world, and I do not want his own foolery to blunder him into the foulest of degeneracy.

“Many men here have lost their sense of humanity,” I continued. “And you would do best not to anger them with thoughts of… _animalistic urges_.” I then turned, heading towards my door next. “It would be best if you take your leave. Come, I will open the door for you.”

“You…” Scout suddenly muttered, making me stop, turning to look at him again. He stood up, his head still held low and hands gripped tightly into fists. The sudden change of emotion happened so fast, and before I knew it he came charging forward. “You think you’re so funny, huh?!”

Scout reached to where I was, shoving his hands forward and grabbing at my arms. The sudden action was nothing expected, and I tried struggling back in retaliation.

“What do you think you are––?! Unhand me!” I demanded, finding that my own strength was not enough to pull away. Scout was fueled with such anger, an anger best left on the battlefield. The boy forced me backwards, making me hit quite hard against the wall.

“Scared?!” His yelling continued, the screechy high-pitch volume of his voice piercing my eardrums. “I ain’t fuckin’ scared of no gayass fag, you hear me!”

“Boy, this is irrational behavior!” I argued back through my struggling.

“Don’t act like ya can spew out pretentious bullshit and act like you’re better than me!”

“I was merely giving you a warning on the type of company your dreadful attitude brings!”

He scuffed next, “Yeah, an example of an old ass creep gettin’ his kinks off shadowin’ younger dudes!”

_Non, Jeremy it is not…_

I knew better than to let his name spill, knowing the repercussion that would follow suit. Explaining now may not even register to him– mere _bullshit_ he would say about me looking through his files, making any further conversation end there.

When I had yet to reply, the boy’s anger grew. And the next action he condemned on me had yet to register until I started to feel… uncomfortable sensations.

My head snapped down, witnessing that the boy had grabbed firmly onto my groin.

Any calmness I held was thrown aside, and I began to go into a panic.

“Scout––! Scout, please refrain your actions!” My voice faltered quite terribly. I let my free hand grab at his arm, trying to pull it off with little success. The struggling I did only got the boy to squeeze tighter. My eyes held shut, teeth clenching together as I felt pricking pain surge below my privates. Muttered cries spewed out from me, my body shaking ever so violently now. The grip I held on him grew tighter, my nails digging quite deeply into his skin now, leaving marks.

Scout seemed far from interested in letting go the more he held, whether his reason was to see me suffer further or hear me beg for his mercy. Yes, his assault was one of ridicule, not desire. Far were his motives ones of lustful interest– non, non, a spur of his own rage overcoming him, wishing for the ones who wronged him harmed!

_Calm down._

_Calm down!_

He scuffed again, “Ain’t all that smug now when you’re on the other end, huh? Why don’t you admit how much of a creep you are and I _might_ leave you with your balls intact.” He did another tight squeeze, one that felt different from before. The warmth of the pain started soothing, feeling pleasurable now. Dreaded years of such common pain and death have created unwelcomed reactions in my body, another terrible addiction I did not try and stop.

The beating of my chest went ballistic, and I found it harder to breathe more than normally. The entirety of my body shuddered like crazy, losing balance and falling forward, head landing on Scout’s shoulder.

_Oh god_.

_Oh god, I feel…!_

Scout’s voice stumbled, “He–Hey, you’re not really freakin’––?”

“Aa… ah…” An unfortunate moan passed my lips, whistling so close into the boy’s ear.

The moment such a sound spewed, Scout let off everything and stepped back. My legs gave way, crashing down on the floor. I huffed once, looking up, seeing the horrific expression on his face. He started stumbling backwards before kicking to his feet, heading towards the door and running out. The moment he exited though, the sound of German cried outside, and then a loud thudding sound echoed afterwards. 

I pressed a hand against the wall, helping myself stand. Once I got to my feet, I headed towards my door, finding the boy and the Doctor tangled within each other.

“Vas zur Hölle?!” Again, Medic yelled out more German as he threw Scout aside. Medic then picked to his feet, brushing down at his doctor’s uniform and adjusting the slight tilt of his glasses. “Herr Scout?” He said aloud, seeing down at his assaulter. “Vhat have I told you about running in ze halls?!”

Scout snapped his head at Medic then at me. Again, he said nothing, quickly fumbling to his feet and continuing down the halls, disappearing from view once he turned the corner.

Medic huffed, “Little vretch is asking for a mandatory rectal examination.” His head then turned my way, finally noticing my presence. “Oh, Herr Spy? I do not recall hearing of your return.” The Doctor soon held a surprising look of concern, head turning at the hallway before returning back on me. He stepped closer and asked, “Vhy vas ze boy––?”

“Just a minor argument– do not worry yourself,” I hurried my words quickly, putting the doctor in quite a confused state.

Medic shook his head and asked again, “Vas? Herr Spy, I did not––”

Whatever else he wished to say, I did not let him finish, rudely shutting my door in front of his face. My back hit against the doorframe next, sliding down until my behind touched the carpet. However long I sat there, I could not recall. The sudden call for nicotine snapped me out of my daze, _demanding_ that I have a smoke already.

I hurried my case out, fumbling with the lighter before finally lighting a bud in my mouth. I soaked in the nicotine, holding the smoke in longer than need be. After some time, I finally spewed out the smoke, watching as it sizzled outward and towards the ceiling, disappearing in front of my eyes. My sight upward held, just staring at that dirty ceiling now, bud hanging at the edge of my mouth.

_…I am going to throw up._

It was a thought best left unimagined, feeling the queasy bellowing of my empty stomach irk me forward as I began spewing out unpleasant liquids all over my floor.


	6. Performance

Since that day, I have stopped following the boy around. Neither banter nor eye-contact was made anymore either, the boy back on his yappering routine of annoying everyone who truly cared little. Yes, I still worried of his safety, but the times I could help were mere chance and nothing more. The lack of knowledge did not stray away the obvious– the boy’s performance had dramatically suffered. Whether it was due to our… _encounter_ or my focus back on my own work, it was hard to properly tell. Either way, I thought it best to keep my distance.

At least until I can control this… _uncomfortable urge_.

–

The weekend medical check-up was due today, the Doctor examining everyone once ceasefire rang. Such practices were done in case of malfunctions in the respawn, and to prevent the stubbornness of a mercenary not speaking before _unfortunate_ mutations started appearing.

My turn was next as I entered the familiar dulled colored medical room. It is a terribly lit place, and oh so dreary of life and hope– just the perfect hold for the Doctor to do his work. The smell of fresh blood still lingered in the air, and the cooing of birds echoed above, staring down at me with their red beady eyes. Quite unsanitary to keep such filthy animals, but complaints from the other men have only risen the number of birds– a very spiteful action from the Doctor, if not a little humorous.

Right now, I sat on the edge of a medical bed, letting the Doctor do his work. The press of the cold stethoscope sat on my exposed chest, the Doctor listening in on the slow beats of my heart.

“Inhale if you please,” Medic asked. I did such that, inhaling slowly before blowing out again. An unfortunate cough spewed from me near the end, expressing a terrible look from the Doctor in return. “Your smoking habits are as bad as ever,” he scolded, taking the scope off my chest and the buds out from his ears. He hurried towards his medical desk next, snatching up his clipboard and scribbling down what was most likely notes. 

Not an unexpected reaction, for the Doctor as berated me many, many times to quit my habit while ahead. Such worries seemed silly, for my health concerns are far too late to be treated properly.

Medic continued, still writing, “Did you feel any different during your stay avay? It is not often for you to stay alive for more zhan a veek now.”

“Slight _fatigue_ – so to say,” I replied, proceeding to button my vest and suit up.

“ _Fatigu_ e, hm?” He repeated, still writing. “How about your libido– do you still have trouble _getting it up_?”

“…It is a struggle,” I admitted, if a little quiet.

“If such a skill vas a requirement here,” Medic started explaining, turning around as he adjusted the slight tilt on his glasses. “I would be more zhan happy to prescribe you vith anyzhing you may need. Hovever, you do not get paid to have sex vith ze enemy here, less your team.”

“Of course,” I sighed once more with a nod.

“Oh, do not feel so bothered by it,” Medic reassured, waving a hand in the air and turning back towards his desk. “Many men your age lose zhat vild zhrill of zheir younger years.” Again, he started writing more notes on his clipboard.

I am usually not one to be so open to anyone, but the Doctor is an exception for his profession alone. The talks with him feel more like the realm of normalcy instead of insanity, and he is probably the reason why I have yet to go completely insane from my crazed teammates. It is quite ironic, for a man such as him is the craziest here.

With the last button snapped on my suit and my tie readjusted slightly, I finally stood up, readying to head out and have a smoke.

Before I could take my leave though, Medic called out, “Another second, Herr Spy.” My eyes were on the Doctor, watching him come over with a needle in hand now. “A simple blood sample is in order.”

“I am not one to give my blood away so easily without a fight,” I refuted for once, not all too comfortable with this sudden necessity. It is not the first for the Doctor to request _unneeded_ treatment where none is present.

“Recent orders from ze Administrator herself,” the Doctor happily exclaimed. “Unless you vish to file a _complaint_.”

_Ah, yes, the Administrator…_

“I do not have all day,” I quickly obliged, fiddling back my sleeves and sitting back on the bed again. Truly, I was not in the mood to deal with the _old crone_.

Medic held his smile, issuing me to lie down. Again, I obliged, laying my back on the bed and spreading one of my arms to the side. Medic began digging through pocket after pocket of his medical suit, finally bringing out a small roll of bandages, circling it around the upper part of my bicep.

“Ze tiniest little pinch, I promise,” He said, motioning his thumb and index finger close together. He then snapped at the long thin needle, making slight specks of water gush out from the tip. The Doctor turned my wrist around, rubbing his fingers against the skin to try and pinpoint the vain he needed to prick. Once he found what he needed, he finally got to work in inserting the needle through. The rest of the process went by quite quickly, and before long the Doctor had already bandaged the wound on my arm.

“Have I ever told you how much of a vonderful patient you are, Herr Spy?” Medic suddenly praised, showing off the needle filled with my blood. “Even Herr Heavy gets a little squeamish vhenever I pull ze needle out.”

“Oh, I am the favorite now?” I humored, sitting up whilst fixing my sleeves. “What would monsieur Heavy think?”

“It vas merely a compliment,” his reply was quite stern, truly not seeing the jesting in my words. He hurried over towards his desk again. “Zhat is all, Herr Spy. You may leave.” And with that said, the Doctor was lost in his own little world, muttering and looking through his many papers and notes. I shrugged, getting off the bed and finally taking my leave out the room.

Once I made it outside, I was caught by surprise with the Bushman’s presence. He was leaning on the wall nearby, leg shaking like an impatient child. The two of us make eye-contact, the man exposing his already sour look with general unpleasantries. All I expressed back was a smile, stepping aside and displaying a hand out for him to enter next.

The Bushman grumbled another noise, standing straight and heading over. Rudely, he bumped into my shoulder as he passed by and headed inside the medical room. I huffed, swiping away at my shoulder– the filthy jar-man does not seem like the type to regularly bathe, and I do not want any of his grime on me. Though, these ill thoughts I have on him are not helping in our degrading relationship.

Indeed, the heat in our _camaraderie_ had taken a down toll after my little outburst with the boy, and I have not once attempted to reason with him on this unnecessary hostility. Whatever his petty reasons, I really do have bigger issues to worry about. Like my terrible nicotine addiction cropping up again.

Thoughts of the Bushman were put aside as I hurried out my case, snapping out a freshly new bud from within. I took in the nicotine, feeling the warmth of the burning wood hit on my tongue. Again, I found myself coughing terribly, needing to press a hand against a wall so I did not keel over.

_I need some rest…_

Slowly, I proceeded my way down the hall, heading towards my room. My mindless walking was awoken to the sounds of bellowing around a corner, witnessing quite the rare sight of Heavy and Engineer arguing amongst each other. Heavy banged quite fiercely on the door in front of him, causing Engineer to grit his teeth and wince.

“Goin’ break the hindges straight off!” Engineer complained quite loudly, an uncommon sight outside of the battlefield.

“I try and call, but little man no come out,” Heavy said back with another pound. “He is ignoring Heavy! Heavy does not like being ignored!”

I pondered the situation, looking at the door they stood close by. If I am not mistaken, I do believe that is– oh mon, it is indeed the boy’s room.

“Pardon, what is going on?” I asked whilst hurrying closer towards the two, causing them to turn their heads my way.

Heavy was the first to begin, “Try to tell Scout medical examination today, but Scout does not want to come out from room!”

Engineer added after, pointing a thumb back, “Son’s been holding up in there since the game ended.”

I blinked, “He has?” Such information was unfounded.

“Ee-yep,” Engineer nodded. “Hasn’t been playin’ well recently if ya ain’t noticed, and Soldier-boy’s been chewin’ him out about it for days. Demo and I have been tryin’ to get Soldier to chill about it, but that guy ain’t an easy bull to wrestle with.”

Again, my lack of disregard and avoiding has not brought such issues to my attention.

“Heavy does not care for reason,” Heavy huffed, cracking his knuckles. “Heavy will break puny door if he does not come out once turn is up.”

“And I don’t want that happenin’ because I’m gonna be the one fixin’ the dang ol’ door!” Engineer continued complaining, turning his attention on Heavy again. “Look, he’s gonna have to get out sooner or later– wrangle him up then!”

“Doktor does not like to be put on hold.”

“Doc ain’t makin’ the rules here!” Engineer barked next, not only sounding most angry but able to hold a distinct look of annoyance through his goggled face.

Heavy said nothing but crossed his arms, his enormous height truly overshadowing the smaller man.

“Now, not tryin’ to cause trouble,” Engineer reassured, tone quiet now but still firm. “Just sayin’ that the Doc can be a bit too serious at times.”

“Engineer not serious enough,” Heavy replied, his tone also quite low and stern now.

While Engineer’s main concern was on a more material issue, mine was strictly on the boy’s mentality. I knew of his performance to be less than satisfactory, but to hold himself up in his room only implied that he felt shame or stress towards his faults. Never once did he care about the crazed ramblings from Soldier before, for the man always found an excuse to berate on others, no matter how good or bad they played in the field.

_Merde, this is my fault…_

“Perhaps I should talk with him,” I said aloud, grabbing their attention again. The two looked at each other before their sight was on me.

At first, Engineer seemed less than confident, saying, “Don’t think you’ll have much luck either, Spah.” 

“Have your attempts worked so far?” I questioned.

“Heavy has yet to attempt door breakage.”

Once Engineer heard those words, he rephrased his opinion, “Maybe we should let Spah handle the rascal! He’s always been a good persuader.”

Heavy hummed in thought this time, not seeming as convinced.

“Monsieur Scout will be no trouble at all,” I insisted again, coming between the two, now the one standing right in front of the door. “There is no need for a crowd. He is simply one boy.”

Heavy hummed once again before finally speaking, “Heavy be back if Spy take too long.” And with those words, he left on his way down the hall. Engineer blew aloud with a laugh. He fiddled with his hardhat as he gave a glance over.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Good luck, pardner,” he said with a smile, making his way down the hall the same.

I watched as the two men finally disappeared from my view, leaving me and the boy held up on the other side of the door. My complete focus was on that door, truly uncertain on what I even wished to say. I concentrated on my bud for a moment, blowing out slowly.

_Just… keep calm._

Finally, I made my move, gently knocking on the door a few times before speaking, “Scout, it is me.”

No response.

I continued, “I am alone if that is what you are worried.”

Again, there was no response.

And again, I continued on, “I am not going to force you to leave your room. However, I do wish to talk to you about a few things… May I come in? I understand if you do not wish for me––”

My shoulders jittered up as the door smidgen open suddenly, the boy’s face poking out. With what little I could see from his face, nothing seemed out of the norm. At most, his hair was a little messy, and he wore more formal clothing than the usual working wear.

Scout paused for a moment before mumbling over, “place is a shithole.” He exposed quite an embarrassed look, which almost made me snort out in amusement.

“I do not mind,” I said back with a smile.

Another moment before Scout carelessly opened the door wider, walking away and heading back towards his messy comic filled bed, plopping himself at the edge. I followed after, closing the door behind me once I was inside. We were in a familiar situation from before, my presence standing in front of the boy as he sat legged wide on the edge of his bed. The only difference was we were in a more… _unclean_ environment.

“What’cha want?” Scout huffed, not even bothering to look at me as he mindlessly flipped a page from a comic that sat beside him.

“Well, to not see you so stressed for one,” I remarked back.

“Didn’t let you in so you could just scold me.”

I tried again, acting more sincere, “Scout, I am not mad if that was what you were worried about.”

“I don’t care if your mad or whateve’,” again he huffed, his glare finally on me. “Just say what ya wanna say or get outta my room.”

I sucked on my bud for a moment, holding it between my fingers next.

Finally, I spoke, “I overplayed myself.” The annoyed expression the boy held turned into one of surprise. “Never did I mean for you to have such ideas, nor did I want to unnerve you in such a way either.”

“Yeah, well––!” Scout shouted at first, but then he paused. “Yeah… Yeah, I didn’t mean what I did either,” he then admitted, tone much lower now. “I dunno– maybe I was just friggin’ mad or whateve’. Bein’ told all that weird shit all of a sudden…” Again he paused. “ _Creep_ or not, I kinda did appreciate havin’ you watch my back. And, like, and maybe I did get a little peeved when you stopped doin’ it or whateve’…”

I would be a fool to believe his words after the last time, but what he said did feel more sincere than before. We both acted out– more so me, for I know many more truths than he does.

“Again, it is fine,” I reassured. “And again, my intentions were far from that. Truly, all I wished was to support you on your endeavors.”

“Hah, it’ll probably help if you let off the smokin’,” the boy said with a smile, pointing at the bud in my hand.

“Pardon,” I apologized, looking around to see where I can snuff my bud out. “Truly, how rude of me.”

My slight panic made the boy snort, “just snuff it on the table over there.” Scout pointed at a grimy looking table nearby, filled to the brim with old cans of BONK! and other unmentionables. I hurried over, smooshing the bud into the wood.

“Hey, Spy,” Scout spoke up again, my sight on him once I finished snuffing out my bud. “Sure, I really do appreciate the help and all, but the two of us don’t really make a good team combo with your whole sneaky invisible shtick and all. If anythin’, I’ve probably screwed ya over a shit ton when I’m out their flankin’.”

“Oh, I could ramble on about all of your _intrusions_ in my work,” I said, slight annoyance prevalent in my voice. “That is for another time. We have other matters to discuss.”

Scout blinked and asked, “Er, like what?”

While my purpose here was merely a lucky spur of events, easing the heat of our relationship was not the only thing I wished to do.

I walked over to where he sat, standing quite closely now. He flinched slightly, holding a look of caution.

“May I?” I asked with a hand out, wishing permission to sit next to him. While the boy hesitated at my offer, he did move aside, making room for me. I sat, keeping far enough apart so are shoulders did not touch. “A lot has happened, and you may not even recall me bothering you about it either.” He said nothing, expressing quite a confused look. “Your crush on Miss Pauling, oui?”

“Oh!” He immediately blurted. “Nah, like… Uh…” The boy tried to play dumb next, his own foolery blundering out his terrible lies. Once he took notice of my impassive look, he finally gave in and admitted, “Crap– Fine, maybe I do! But like hell do I ever have a chance.”

“Come, your underperformance has not made you feeble now, has it?” I asked, not believing this pessimist attitude he tried playing on. “You always run head first into any challenge, no matter the danger.”

“Gettin’ blasted by a sentry really ain’t the same as askin’ a gal out.”

“Nonsense! Your charismatic attitude must have laid hearts to many women in the past.” My words may have been far off the mark, the boy expressing quite an irritated look on his face now. “I did not mean that as a joke, truly.”

Scout spitted, “Fine, not like I can friggin’ hide it from you or anythin’!” He swung his arms in the air before slamming them on his knees. “I’ve never _really_ had a girlfriend, OK?”

My hand went on my mouth in quite a surprise. I tried not to be rude, holding back my grin as I asked, “Oh mon, and you never––?”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupted. “I know what you’re gonna say, so don’t even say it.”

While mockery about his purity may have spilled from my mouth, it was mere jesting, for I presumed the boy did have some _experience_ before. Knowing such knowledge now truly humored a terrible side of me, having to take a moment to calm before speaking again. The feeling of dread soon overwhelmed me though, realizing such incompetence may as well be my fault.

My sight was back on the boy, seeing the utterly red flush forming on his face, expressing a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. He shook his head, blowing aloud, his sight straight on me.

“OK!” He began, trying to sound most serious now. “Since I told you something no one else knows– don’t say everyone already knows I’m a _v-i-r-g-i-n_.” I nodded, awaiting his next say. “Can you just tell me if you’re really a _faggot_ or not?” 

I merely believed that the boy held to his assumptions, but he seemed quite eager to hear the truth from my own mouth. The answer, however, was not an easy one to explain– at least for the boy to understand.

“I have bedded many people,” I began. “Women and men who wished for my comfort in similar ways.”

“ _Sooo_ … You’ve fucked dudes before?”

I nodded, “Oui.”

“You really fucked dudes before?”

“Scout, is this honestly something you find unbelievable?”

The boy just shrugged back though, truly unsure.

I continued anyway, “Becoming a Spy is not as simple as fighting off crazed scientists or saving the world from nuclear detonation. Some boundaries I held before had to be broken, even if I did not enjoy breaking them.”

“Then you’re not a fag?”

I sighed, “I am afraid I cannot properly give you an answer. All I can say is that I have bedded both sexes equally.” Preferences are something I cannot hold, less I become too comfortable on one side.

“Thought an old crud like yourself would have this shit figured out.” He paused for a moment before quickly adding next, “I ain’t no fag either, got it!”

“Did I ask if you were?”

Scout said nothing back, his stare away now. Discussion had truly taken an uncomfortable turn, unfortunate events from before trying to pry their way in. It is so easy to simply apologize with words alone, but to hold onto such forgiveness is not an easy task. I have… _struggled_ to withdraw such unpleasant memories, and the boy may be having trouble doing the same.

“Does it feel good?” The boy’s words came out so suddenly, and I had to take a second to properly register them.

I stumbled into my native language quite terribly, “Excusez-moi– désolé– _Pardon_?”

“Like,” Scout tried again, thinking for a moment. “Does it, ya know… _feeeel_ good? Doin’ whateve’ fags do with each other.”

I truly could not fathom what the boy was asking, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Boy,” I began, quite firm in my tone. “If you truly hold no interest, why are you asking?”

“Nah, nah,” he panicked, waving his hands out. “I mean, it has to feel good or somthin’ if you’re open to fuck other dudes.”

“It is not that I am open––!” My voice rose before I stopped, cursing out some French under my breath. “Merde, such curiosity will only get you harmed...”

A terrible realization erupted the moment I said that, the consequences of my actions exposing right in front of me. The implications that the boy may find interest in committing such degeneracy, and around men who may be more than happy to indulge on self-satisfaction. _Jeremy_ may be a grown man now, but he is still just a boy in my eyes, unaware of the dangerous world he was birthed in, gullible towards people who are more than happy to _violate_ his semblance of innocence.

“C’mon, Spy,” The boy’s words snapped me out of my haze. “Was just joshin’– no way would I ever bang another dude.” He did a friendly smack to my shoulder and laughed.

_He is coaxing his lies._

But that is just mere overthought– I have always overthought things, I have to! All of this could mean nothing after tomorrow, and we will just go back to being teammates who tolerate the other. _Ha!_ But that is just an excuse I am telling myself, continuing to abandon a different life I would have been so happy to stay in.

Non, I cannot risk him doing something stupid!

Even if I must… must I…

“Hey, you alright?” Again, Scout pulled me out of my haze, looking quite concerned now. “You look like you’re gonna throw up or somthin’.” I did not realize myself, but I had hunched forward slightly, one hand on my mouth.

“…Yes, I,” I slowly began, starting to feel my throat tighten.

_Oh god, not again._

Quickly I stood, rushing my next say, “Pardon, I need to use your washroom!”


	7. Touch

While I did make it inside that filthy bathroom, I could only make it as far as the sink before I hunched over it, coughing up phlegm and other vial liquids. I wrestled with the faucet, the water spraying heavily into the sink, mixing with the filth before circling down the drain. My coughing soon settled, left over specs drenching down my chin still. For once, I cared little for my suit, brushing away the liquids with my sleeve. There, I stayed hunched over that sink, trying to breathe, trying to get my bearings back together.

_It is getting worse…_

I picked my head up, looking at the toothpaste covered mirror. My stare went on the door before it went back on the mirror again. Fingers snipped at my neck, looking for the thin line of fabric of my balaclava. Soon, I was able to tear the mask off, revealing my true face. No matter how well trimmed my facial hair was, or how much I prepared my greying hair, my sagging wrinkles and dark eyes exposed me as the tired old man that I was. And an improper gentleman who has committed far too many wrongs to deserve any redemption or pity.

My sight held on the mirror still, for however long.

Quietly, I started laughing.

My morality may have died a long time ago, but my atrocities would not go as far as to hold ideas of bedding my own _son_ , non! To even have such thoughts– truly, I may be going insane from this place!

_How ridiculous!_

_All of this is ridiculous!!_

My hand slammed on the sink, harming myself as warmth stung around my palm. Any laughter I held stopped, and I went silent.

Again, I looked up at that mirror.

…Indeed, this place is only for the crazed and insane. The bounds of normalcy are _different_ here.

_Jeremy_ does not know me passed camaraderie. Never once did I hold him in my arms, watched as he grew before my eyes. Non, it was merely a month ago since I found out he was my son. And the concept that I even had a son was a remembrance hidden deep within. In reality, he is really only my _son_ through blood and nothing more.

My hand started reaching below, cupping my groin.

_His touch…_

A memory from the past I wanted gone, erased– discarded for eternity! Such an event never occurred– non, non, never were my reactions so perverse!

_Ah, but it has been so long since I felt such pleasures..._

These crude thoughts are why I spaced myself from the boy– inhumane animalistic lust that I wished expunged!

_Non, it is wrong! Il est faux– it is wrong!_

There was a sudden sound of knocking behind, breaking me from my thoughts. Another knock before the boy’s voice called out from the other side, “Spy, you ain’t dyin’ in there, are you? Been like five minutes or somethin’.”

It was hard to tell if the boy was joking around or being truthful, for I truly had no clue how long I have been in here.

I fixed myself up, standing straight again and placing my balaclava over my face. However, I did not stop there. First, I began loosening the knot around my tie. Then, I started unbuttoning a few buttons off my suit, letting it hang down my arms. Lastly, I snapped off just a few of the buttons on my vest, showing more of my shirt. Again, I just stood there for some time, my breath hitching as I sucked in some air.

_How pitiful of a man I have become, mon chéri…_

Finally, I made my way out the washroom and opened the door. Scout was still close by, looking as he was about to knock again. He brought his hand down, stepping aside so I could reenter his room. The two of us stood in silence, the boy having trouble keeping eye-contact the longer it went on.

“Pardon,” I spoke first. “I made a mess in your sink.”

“Er, no problem,” the boy spoke back, rubbing his hand through his neck. His noticed soon went on the mess of my clothing as he pointed next, “Your clothes are a mess, ya know?”

“It does feel good,” I suddenly blurted, my tone quite eerily calm.

The boy blinked, “Huh?”

“Are you still _curious_?”

Scout was utterly shocked, opening his mouth but not spilling any words. When he did speak, he could only force a smile and laugh, “Ge _–_ Geesh, I knew bringin’ up gross stuff like that would bite my ass. Ya know me, never knowing when to shut my mouth.”

“You did not give me an answer.”

Rudely, I started walking forward, forcing the boy to stumble back.

“Spy, don’t freakin’ do this again,” he tried holding a stern tone, but he faltered some. Despite his abhorrence, I continued forward. “I told you this shit ain’t funny!”

We finally reached his bed as he plopped back at the edge, my wellbeing standing in front of him. The boy held a nervous glare, hesitant on what to do. I wished no harm, but to further add to his curiosity. In all honesty though, I hoped that the boy would find disgust in my actions, throw me aside and yell at me to get out of his room. I rather have his hatred than… than this.

My hand moved forward, causing the boy to flinch up quite terribly. Gently, I grabbed his hand, bringing it closer towards my face. His stare widen, watching and waiting to see what I would do.

I opened my mouth, bringing his fingers forward, proceeding to suck on the tips. The only reaction from the boy was to quietly gasp, not even so much attempting to pull his hand away from my foul action. There was a certain taste I figured out the more I licked, one telling enough that the boy had recently _pleasured_ himself not so long ago.

“Scout, did you masturbate recently?” I said, curling my tongue between his fingers.

“Uhh,” he only stumbled, truly at a loss.

The meaning of the lacking resistance was hard to tell, my mind working on desire now, not common thought. His expression was truly fearful, but his troublesome curiosity was enough for him to not look away. There was enough willpower for me to back off if the boy fought. Sadly, I am not fortunate enough for that outcome.

Further I pushed his fingers inside, my lips hitting the balls of his knuckles. My gag reflexes were not prepared for this intrusion and I gargled aloud, causing a twitchy reaction from the boy. Slowly, I pulled his fingers back, my saliva following suit and drenching down his hand. I laid my cheek upon his palm, tiredly looking down at him. The boy may have not known himself, but his heavy breathing had become more noticeable.

I ran his wetted hand underneath my vest and shirt, letting the unsnapped buttons carelessly snap apart as I dragged it upward, exposing my boney chest now. His sight went on my body, feeling my chest expand from my light breathing.

“You may touch me,” I said, letting go. His hand did not drop or pull away, but stayed pressed on my body. At first, Scout did nothing, deep in his own thoughts. But soon, his exploration began, examining around my small scars and marks. He brought his other hand over next, letting that one caressed the side of my waist whilst his wetted one ran further up my chest.

Scout swallowed aloud, “Damn, Spy… You’re really freakin’ skinny.” His hand brushed at my visible rib bones. “Like, shit, straight from the porno mag skinny.” Of course his only knowledge would be filth-ridden magazines.

He tried to grab a handful of my chest, only able to squeeze some of the flat skin. “Don’t have any tits though,” he muttered, looking most disappointed now. “That kinda sucks…”

My eyes closed and my lips held together. My body was shaking most terribly, the tickling of his touch caressing my most sensitive of nerves. The fact that he could hold such soft hands throughout the battling– his bandages have truly worked wonders. Such delicate fingers brushed my nipple, causing a sudden stinging surge of pleasure throughout my body.

“Ah _––_!” I did not even attempt to hold back a sound, bellowing it out loudly. Such sensitivity never got to me in such a way– _magnifique!_

All movements from the boy stopped. I slowly opened my eyes, finding the boy staring down at the floor now.

He swallowed again, quietly speaking my name, “Spy…” His head rose, exposing the utter redness he held on his face. A mere moment of hesitation before he asked, “Do I… Do I really make you this horny?”

A loud series a knocks suddenly banged on Scout’s door, causing us both to jerk back in a panic.

“Spy in there?” Heavy bellowed on the other side, sounding most angry. “If Scout not want to leave room, Heavy will use force.”

“He ain’t jokin’, pardner!” The panicked voice of the fixing man echoed next. “Now– Now, the door is innocent here!”

Our sight went on the other before I quickly backed away, trying to fix my appearance. Movements and rumbling only caused me to fumble about further, unable to even snap back the buttons of my vest. Scout issued my attention over with a noise, patting on his wrist whilst eyeing over mine.

_Of course, my watch!_

I pressed the correct buttons, my visibility now harder to tell besides my slight static-like movements. I then hurried out of view from the door _–_ Heavy I may get away with, but many of the Engineers’ have had experience in seeing passed a Spy’s cloaking machinery.

Once I was hidden, Scout made his move and jumped off the bed, taking the moment to wipe off the wetness from his hand before reaching towards his door.

“Alright, alright, I’m here!” He huffed, a hand on the wall, blocking entry from his room. My view was limited where I stood, unsure on the other twos visibility.

I heard Engineer heaving a sigh, “Thank mary…”

“Spy here?” Heavy questioned.

“Fancy-pants?” Scout blundered, his eyes blinking at me before quickly blinking back at the two. “Haven’t seen him all day,” he waved a hand with a smile, trying a bit too hard to play it cool.

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised ‘bout that,” Engineer commented with a laugh.

I heard grumbling from Heavy, telling the boy, “Scout has had fun. Cannot hide from Doktor all day.”

“Psh? Me, hide?” More laughter spewed from the boy. “Nah, nah, I ain’t hidin’.”

“Good. Because it is Scout’s turn to see Doktor.”

“Oh…” All laughter immediately stopped, and he held a look of utter dread. “Yeah, uh… Sure I can’t reschedule for later _––_? _”_

Big arms appeared forward, grabbing around the boy, pulling him out from his room.

Scout yelped, “Ah! Not cool, not cool _––_! Help, I’m bein’ _Scout_ napped!”

“Quiet,” Heavy grumbled aloud.

The rambling of Heavy’s and Scout’s voice echoed away before silencing all together.

I thought to be alone until I heard the sudden laughter of Engineer bellowing close by. His appearance walked into the boy’s room, freezing me still. The man looked around, quite disgusted with the mess littered about.

“Dang boy was raised in a barn,” he muttered to himself, kneeling down and picking up one of the boy’s many comic books. Again he looked around the room, really frustrated with the hectic mess _–_ his damned compulsive perfectionism will just not make him leave! He took one step only to stop on his next, distracted on the table to his right. He walked over, laying the comic down and picking up another object– oh merde, my cigarette!

Engineer examined the burnt bud, front and back, focused on it like one of his silly little blueprints. The man shook his head and spoke again, “Son, this is the last habit you need.” He finally hurried his way out, slamming the door behind. I listened in on his boots tapping down the hall before silence overcame again. Another moment I waited, soon decloaking with a hefty sigh.

My legs gave way as I sat myself on that filthy floor, a hand over my forehead. Truly, it would be best for me to leave but the energy to move was not there. My hand fell, my view up on the ceiling, watching the fan above slowly circle around.

It was only the sudden warmth below did I stir up again, gasping another sound and shaking. My eyes tiredly looked down, staring at the bulge protruding from my slacks.

_Ah, I am hard…_


	8. Unfinished Business

“Hardhat, I told ya, I don’t have any more left!” The boy’s voice hollered aloud.

I had just snapped a new bud whilst entering the respawn, caught in a state of shock seeing the laborer going through the boy’s locker, tossing aside his varies unmentionables all over the place. Demoman, Soldier and Pyro were close by as well, watching the scene in amusement, smiling and chuckling as the boy hurried about catching everything Engineer threw.

“Not that I don’t trust yah, son,” Engineer said, his voice bouncing inside the locker. “But I’ll be cross if I just stood by watchin’ yah hackin’ up yer lungs now.”

“Give me a break–– hey, that hat was expensive!!” The boy panicked, jumping to catch a most exquisite looking baseball cap, only to then tumble towards the floor with all the belongings he held. That got the other three men laughing up in hysteria, unable to keep still on the bench they sat on.

I could only presume, but I do believe this had to do with Engineer’s little find of my bud from yesterday. I had hoped to ignore such events for the time being, needing to really think on my next course of action with the boy.

“Oie,” a rude voice suddenly grumbled behind as I turned– ah, of course, the _Bushman_. “Yer in my way, Spook,” he demanded, waiting for me to step aside instead of just using his legs to walk around. His pestering soon became distracted on the scene playing in front of us, his eyes springing open in quite a surprise. He rudely pushed through me, hurrying to where Engineer was and hastily asking next, “What’s goin’ on here?”

Demoman chortled out and thumbed at Scout, “Laddie got caught smokin’.”

“No, like, it wasn’t even––!” Scout tried to explain but quickly stopped, finally taking notice at my presence. I held quiet, only holding my stare and continuing to suck on my bud. The boy fumbled out his next say, “Er… Uh… OK, maybe I tried _ooonce_ ––“

“Idiot, yah wanna end up like the Spook now?!” Sniper suddenly berated, thumbing back at my wellbeing. “Don’t need yah muckin’ about with this new smokin’ habit yer tryin’ to do!”

“Alright, alright, geesh!” Scout threw his hands in the air in annoyance. “Of course ya all start givin’ a shit when it might affect work!”

“Oh-ho! Nay, it ain’t like that at all, laddie,” Demoman tried reassuring through his continuing laughter.

“What is commotion?” Another bellowing sound from behind me asked. Everyone looked back, finding that the Doctor and Heavy had appeared, looking most perturbed with everything that was happening.

“ _Um Gottes willen_ – do I even need to ask?” Medic grumbled out in German before continuing back into English.

“Well, couldn’t find nothin’,” Engineer then spoke, shutting the locker, patting his hands clean of dust. “But that doesn’t mean I should be findin’ anymore buds that don’t belong to any of us, a’righty?” He scolded at Scout with a point before heading over to his locker.

“I’m not a freakin’ kid guys, c’mon!” Scout whined out. “I just, ya know, actually have to have my lungs in-tact. If it wasn’t for that, I could totally smoke!”

Medic sighed aloud, his rubber glove running up his face. “Just clean up your mess, Herr Scout,” he tiredly said, proceeding towards his locker with Heavy to get his Medigun.

“My mess?!”

“Yes!” Soldier boasted suddenly, rising from the bench with a hefty click to his boots. “We cannot have men making a mess around here!” He rudely invaded the boy’s space, pressing his large finger roughly through Scout’s chest. “Unless every bone on your body is broken and all of your teeth have been pulled, you have no excuse to leave your toys around for your own mother to pick up!” Once satisfied with his _instructing_ , Soldier marched away with pride.

With the Doctor’s and Soldier’s say, everyone soon separated from the scene the same, going through their lockers and getting out their things for today’s game. The boy gawked around, truly not believing what just happened.

He scuffed, “Ya’ll suck,” and proceeded to pick up his mess of things.

I sucked again on my bud, still staying in place, watching as the boy miserably cleaned a mess he did not even start. Quietly I blew out, walking over to where he was.

“Oh, pardon me,” I began, holding quite a snarky tone– I must keep my façade intact less questioning eyes notice. “It is not customary for me to bend my knee, but you look like you are in dire need of some–“

“Don’t need your freakin’ help, fancy-pants,” he interrupted, showing off a most sour look of annoyance before eyeing away, continuing to mindlessly grab at his things.

It is something I should have expected, for he was taking the blunt of an unfortunate fault he did not even commit. The boy telling the others the truth now would lead to… unneeded questions– there would be no reason to lie to begin with, for I had a reasonable alibi from Heavy and Engineer. Well, I _would_ have had one if not only from my own foolishness, but from the boy’s rash decision to say he did not see me for that entire day.

“…Of course, I do not want to risk dirtying my suit,” my words flowed like a script, not all too enthusiastic or natural sounding. Neither the boy nor anyone else seemed to notice, let alone care. That was what I thought at first before I turned to find the Bushman’s glare on me once again.

_What is his issue now?_

Demoman distracted his sight away, telling the man, “Not like ye to get all vocal on us, mate.” He gave Sniper a friendly pat on the back and smiled. Sniper said nothing though, taking out his rifle and shutting his locker quite loudly. He turned away, his glare held again as he walked by, heading towards the gate leading out the battlefield. Demoman seemed most confused, watching the man leave before shrugging and hefting his demolition suit on.

I thought nothing of it, readying myself for the game the same.

–

Hours went by, our team able to push through the REDs defense far enough to reach their last point. While my performance did not falter, I had terribly miscalculated a lot of my plays throughout. A slight miss-angle in an important backstab, an unfortunate run-in with the RED Pyro bumping into my shoulder. If such errors happened sparingly, I would see them as nothing more than just errors. But I cannot condone my horrible playing for so many times that I start to go in the negative.

Burnt marks had scorched my suit, and specs of blood from my last victim coated my knife a dark red. I pressed up against a wall, quite exhausted and possibly on the verge of death– it can be hard to tell at times when one survives a barrage of bullets and rockets at point blank range.

The area around me seemed most quiet and deserted from other places, far from the hectic battlefield and out of the way for the usual mercenary to run through unless needed. Supplies were few and between, perhaps even nonexistent as I yet to find a single Medipack to snatch.

I soon made it into a small building quite hidden away, hoping to find what I needed there. Fate must truly have a cruel twist of humor, for while I did find the Medipack, I found it occupied by someone already, and the boy was struggling most horribly in using it.

Scout jerked up where he sat, in quite a surprise to find me standing right in front of him now. Bandages carelessly wrapped around his blooded shoulder, trying to patch up what seemed to be a deep bullet wound of sorts. He seemed ready to grab at his Scattergun close by, but hesitated, unsure if it was truly me and not an imposter.

“Pardon,” I calmly spoke first, keeping my distance. “I was in need of a Medipack.”

“…Oh!” The boy blurted, looking at his careless work slip down his body. “Aw crap– Hah, stole another one it seems,” he tried humoring, fixing the mess of his bandages in place again.

“It is fine,” I reassured with a smile. “It looks like you needed it this time.” I walked aside, keeping my distance still and taking out my case, snapping a new bud.

Quietness overtook the room, the sounds of my breathy sucks and his slight movements bouncing around the walls. My stare held on him, watching as he continued to struggle with the bandages still.

I broke the silence and asked, “Do you need assistance––?”

“Nah, nah,” he was quick to interrupt, waving a hand my way. “I got this!”

At this rate, the boy may end up bleeding out before the Medipack can even take effect.

I took one last deep suck on my bud, not even finishing it half-way as I threw it aside and crushed it out.

“Let me help,” I said, hurrying over to where he sat. My action may have been too fast for the boy as he grabbed at his gun with one hand, finger teasing at the trigger. I halted, easing back– an unnecessary trip through respawn is something I do not need. His grip on his gun faltered though, the wound on his shoulder gushing out a spurt of blood suddenly. He dropped his weapon, hand on his shoulder now, hissing and whining under his breath.

Slight frustration left my voice as I started again, “Scout, even if I was the enemy, I would not risk my own wellbeing by killing you because you are easily just killing yourself.” Scout eyed at me then back at his wound.

He muttered a noise and then said, “Back’s stayin’ on this wall.”

I nodded, taking one step forward before continuing further, kneeling down in front of him and fixing the mess he put himself in. Carefully, I wrapped cleaner bandages around his shoulder, rolling until the darkness of the blood seeping through turned a light pink.

“I told you to not make a habit of this,” I scolded a little, but not too harshly.

“Ain’t invincible, believe it or not,” the boy humored.

I humored back with a smile, “The battles would be so much easier if you were, but quite boring just the same.”

After some time, I was finally finished as no more bandages were left to place. The boy sighed in relief, already feeling the effects of the materialistic properties.

Again the quietness returned, the boy waiting for his healing to finish while I waited for a new Medipack to spawn. The two of us sat next to each other during this time, but kept our stares away. Opportunities such as this are far and few, and with how things are with the boy, he may not give me many chances to speak with him privately off-hours.

“Scout, about yesterday.” The boy jerked his head in reaction before looking away again. “I may have made a less than thoughtful decision…” I stopped, waiting to see if he would say anything back but did not. “If I ended up scaring you again, I do apologize––“

“You didn’t freakin’ scare me!” He suddenly shouted, surprising me. He was most angry, both in his tone and the expression he held on his face. “OK? Stop sayin’ I got freakin’ scared or some other bullshit. It pisses me off…”

“I did not mean to offend, truly,” I apologized again.

“Oh, again?” He scuffed. “Ya keep sayin’ you don’t _mean_ any of the shit you do.” For once, the boy berated at me. And Indeed, I have been far less than wise on my choices.

“…You are right,” I admitted, head held low and hands held together now. “My actions were my own, and I deeply apologize.” Even I could tell the pitifulness in my voice, feeling utter shame and loathe. There were no excuses I could make– I knowingly acted upon my own cravings, even when I knew of the grievance it would bring.

_But the boy reacted back so…_

Non, I cannot read Scout’s mind! All I can do is speculate his reasons for acting so… so _willing_.

“C’mon, don’t…” Scout then spoke, his words coming out quite slow. I looked up, caught widen-eyed and surprised seeing the slight flush of red across the boy’s face. “It’s so _weird_ seein’ you act like that,” he muttered next, his blooded fist pressed on his mouth.

 _Ah_ , but how can I see it as anything else– the boy truly shows some sort of interest! I must look passed his immaturity and realize he is far from a child that I keep believing him to be. He is a grown man, neither weak nor feeble nor _that_ dumb to understand the rights and wrongs. _Jeremy_ does understand, and that is making it hard for me to resist his _willingness_ of the temptation. 

_But he does not know that I am…_

Non, non, it does not matter! _Hah…_ Truly, I have succumbed to my own vile desires, more than happy to accept such atrocities now if the boy does so the same.

“If you say you were not afraid,” again I spoke, grabbing the boy’s full attention. “Does that mean you did not mind? You did not attempt to stop me, and you seemed quite…” I placed a hand on my chest, fingers pressing into the fabric. “ _Interested_ in touching my body.”

“Nah– Nah, It ain’t, like– it’s not somthin’ I’m used to seein’!” He stuttered quite terribly, trying and retrying his sentences. “It’s weird and… And from you of all––! I dunno, it’s just weird! I ain’t no fag, ya hear me!?”

“Scout, again, did I question if you were?” The boy held silent, really at a lost, finding it hard to keep eye-contact. “What was it that you said before: _straight outta a porno magazine_?” I mimicked his tone for a mere moment, causing his shoulders to jitter up quite terribly. “While disgusting, it honestly comes off quite flattering from _you_.”

“Ahah, I– I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to take that,” he choked up, laughing in-between to ease his nervousness.

I held a smile, the hand on my chest slowly moving up, snapping at the first unbroken button on my suit. The boy’s breath hitched, staring ever so intensely at my small movements.

“You know…” I began with a long breath, snapping away at another button. “We still have… _unfinished business_ , oui?” Continuously I went down, reaching the last button of my suit, my dirtied vest now exposed. My hand ran underneath, pushing away the cloth and exposing my boney and blooded ribcage. “Do you want to touch me again, Scout?”

The boy stared, the hitching of his breath becoming louder. I waited ever so patiently to see what he would do, but was only met with disappointment as he jumped to his feet and paced away, his nervous laughter muttering back and forth.

“ _What the fuck, what the fuck,”_ he repeated to himself.

_…Perhaps I am wrong with his certainty._

“Pardon, such a request is not the best here,” I said, sliding my hand out.

The boy halted, saying aloud next, “No, no, it ain’t––!” He stopped the moment my sight came over. His mouth held agape, swallowing, “I–I kinda… Shit…”

I realized something. The boy worried about his sexuality multiple times, and he may be hesitating due to that fact. _Hah_ , if he is worried about something as silly as that…

“This will mean nothing,” I told him, turning his widen stare straight on me.

I stand, slowly taking a step forward. The boy stayed where he was, watching me come closer until I was right in front of him. His sight held, his breathing continuing ever so heavily. My hand moved forward, touching his. Again, he did not retaliate from my touch. I brought his hand closer to my face, pecking a small kiss on the tip of his blooded knuckle. “Like I said, many, _many_ times, monsieur Scout...”

I moved my head forward and whispered next to his ear, “I only wish to _help_ you.”


	9. Comfort

How easy it was to _persuade_ the boy with a few words.

We were on the floor again, my back against the wall, the boy sitting in front of me. His sight was fully on my exposed body, quite in awe on my slim figure but not doing much of anything else.

He gulped, “This– This really ain’t meanin’ nothin’, right?”

“Non, monsieur Scout,” I reassured for probably the tenth time by now. For all his bickering, he was more than happy to go so far as to push me against the wall in his horny haste. “Now, do not hold back on your curiosity.”

Another moment of hesitation before the boy finally moved his hands forward, running them underneath my vest, sliding against the thin bone of my ribcage. I shuddered at the touch, feeling the fabric of his dirtied bandages smear through my dried blood and sweat. He soon stopped his hands near my chest, trying to cup at the skin, muttering quite disappointedly when he realized there was nothing to grab. I snickered, amused at his horny attempt.

“You know, Scout,” I quietly began, catching his attention. “Many women find joy when you please their breasts. And Miss Pauling may have such tastes.”

“She does– they do?” He fumbled with a hefty breath.

“ _May_ ,” I repeated. “You just seem so _grabby-happy_ , and I felt that I needed to warn you on your enthusiasm for your lover might not feel the same.” I moved my hand up my body, passing the boy’s own. My fingers slide against the flesh of my nipple, caressing myself. “However… if they are more than happy to have their breasts touched, you must be gentle– merely grabbing it like one of your little _balls_ is not a very sensual feeling.”

“Oh, OK… So…”

“Squeeze just a bit on the tip. And again, _gently_.”

He nodded.

Scout’s fingers ran further up, the bud of my nipple going between his middle and index finger. And as I told him, he pressed as gently as he could on the flesh. A small noise whistled from my nose, the tingling pressure speeding throughout my body in seconds before disappearing again. I copied as the boy, pressing my fingers into my other nipple, teasing myself.

“You may… also tease a little with your mouth,” I said through my trembling.

Scout stopped and repeated, “My mouth?”

“Oui, like a baby suckling on a bottle.”

The boy inhaled heavily, thinking for a moment. When his sight was on my body again, he finally moved his head forward, laying his chapped lips upon my nipple. “Ooh…” I sighed, feeling the tickling warmth. Though the action did not last long as he moved away, cursing under his breath, seeming most embarrassed at the action he just committed. “…I was really enjoying it.” He took notice of my reaction, again thinking.

Once more he laid his lips upon me, pursing on the bud of my nipple. His lacking experience was most noticeable, quite confused on what to do further, making me chuckle from how clueless he looked. I believe my laughter was what made him pull back again, exposing the utter redness of embarrassment on his face.

Another chuckle as I said, “That is fine, monsieur Scout. Let us take this one step at a time.” He did not complain, being quite polite and patient for once.

My hand touched his, caressing his knuckle with my thumb. “You are being so kind, and I have yet to do anything for you.” Slowly, I slid my hand down, reaching his arm, letting it wander off and hit his still clothed chest. The boy fidgeted at the touch, but again said nothing. “Pardon,” I apologized. “Can _I_ touch you, monsieur Scout?” The last thing I wanted to do was make the boy feel uncomfortable.

Finally he spoke, fumbling next, “Er, touch? Like, _touch-touch_?”

“Why, I do not know,” I played, intrigued on what he wished of me. “What do you mean by _touch-touch_?”

Scout swallowed aloud, once again in a horrible state of embarrassment. “Crap, uh…” He tried, stopping, before finally speaking again, “Just– Just no funny business when touchin’ my junk!”

_Such an impatient young man…_

“What we are doing is far more than just mere _funny business._ ”

Momentarily, I waited for the boy to be more comfortable. He took one last hefty breath, prepared on what was to come. Slowly, my fingers slid down the fabric of his work shirt, reaching lower until I hit the starting strap of his baggy pants. Further I moved down, my palm now lying on his groin, feeling the most vulnerable part of his flesh. He flinched up, sucking in another breath.

I held still and asked, “Is this fine?”

“ _Uhhh_ , I think?”

Once again, I find myself chuckling. _Oh_ , it has been so long sense I have touched another with such lacking knowledge– _so pure and innocent._

I tested the waters, slowly palming him in a circular motion. His cock gave such a wonderful reaction, feeling the twitchy beats right through his pants. Not only that, the boy started to produce such lovely little moans, and shook ever so slightly in place. My other hand ran around his backside, bringing him closer to my wellbeing.

“How about now?” I whispered.

“Shi– Shit, dude…” He stuttered another moan. “This is– is, I dunno, it’s somthin’!”

My whispering continued, “If you allow me to touch you further, you may like it even more.” He seemed hesitant at the idea, but for a reason that was most silly.

“Uh, I– like I still ain’t all that hard now and...”

_So insecure…_

“Come, such petty things do not matter to me,” I reassured, trying to hold back my laughter for once.

He continued on with his insecurity, “Wasn’t sayin’ it bothered me or nothin’!”

“Then shall I… keep going?”

Scout held silent before nodding, cuing me to go on. My hand went up to his strap again, tugging at it before pulling it down enough to see his underwear. The boy may have fibbed a bit, for his cock was bulging through the thin fabric, wishing for freedom. I obliged to such a request, snapping at the strap of underwear and pulling down, now exposing his cock.

 _My_ , Scout should not put himself down– he was well sized, even to my surprise.

Again, I could not help but tease, “Would you find it uncomfortable for me to say that _I am impressed_?”

“With what?” He blurted, his stupidity exposing itself again.

“I’m impressed with your cock, monsieur Scout.”

“Oh… OH!” He soon realized, nodding to himself, seeming quite content to hear that. But then another realization popped into his mind, and he complained next, “Hey, I thought shit like that didn’t matter to you!”

That made me snort out quite terribly, quickly calming as to not lose the mood.

While I was a little hasty about doing it, I wrapped my fingers around his length, jolting up quite a surprising gasp from the boy. With all his running and fighting, the feeling of his groin felt quite warm and sweaty to touch, even through my gloved hand.

“Aaa… Shi…” Scout had trouble speaking, his mouth agape and his eyes barely open. I merely grabbed a hold of his cock and he already looked as if he just came. _Adorable_.

“Such a fresh and healthy cock,” I praised, lightly pressing the tips of my fingers on his harden length. I felt the beating of his cock quicken, almost begging for more of my touch. Again, I could not help but obliged to its wish. It started with one single stroke up, ending at a small squeeze at the tip of the head. And before long, I was jerking him off, being ever so _fancy_ by sticking a pinkie out whilst doing so.

The boy’s breathing fastened, panting aloud, “Holy– Holy crap. Holy crap…”

“You must be enjoying yourself if you are already this hard,” again I teased, unable to hold back my horrible grin. “Tell me, am I the first to touch you in such a way, monsieur Scout? Minus your ball-squeezing shenanigans you oh so happily told me about.”

“That– That ain’t nothin’ like this…”

It was not long until the sticky wetness of his pre-cum began drenching my glove– _ah_ , I should be mad of the mess but it only enthralled me further in my debauchery.

I whispered close in his ear, “Oh mon, you already wish for release? We just started.” He was unable to answer, his own moaning getting in the way. “ _Heh_ … I will let such a predicament slide, for time is not on our side.”

Scout’s head suddenly dropped onto my shoulder, the fall making his headset whisk on the floor. He then wrapped his arms around my body, holding tightly.

There was a moment of… hesitation from me.

Thoughts on what I was doing had just disappeared, and I found myself focused on the boy in a different way. I took in his warmth, and listened ever so closely to his whimpering– such crying was not one of sadness though and I had… trouble trying to imagine any other reason for it. My hand around his back moved up, sliding into his unkempt hair, petting his head, comforting him.

“Hey, Sp– Spy…”

I was taken away from my daze, the boy raising his head up to look at me. He looked so vulnerable, completely red-faced, still panting heavily. He swallowed, “C’mon, don’t… don’t start makin’ me say weird shit now.” It was those words that made me realize my hand below had stopped moving.

It was shaking actually.

“Pardon me,” I returned, forcing my smile back. “But I believe that I have grown a sick joy in seeing you so meek,” the moment I finished, my jerking movements began again.

Scout swore, “Di– Dick… Aa––!” before spewing out another loud moan. His head once more dug into my shoulder, muffling more indecent sounds through my suit. I held focus on my work, even so much as to move my hand faster to quicken the boy’s release. His held around me tighten, his fingers digging ever so deeply into my back.

It was the boy’s own bucking that finally set him off, thrusting up into my hand only once before coming with a loud muffle. His essence drenched down, coating my glove a sticky white. My movements steady, carefully rubbing in the beats of his spurting. Scout continued to buck for some time, even after the last of his semen had spilled and he had nothing left to give. Soon he settled, his face still hidden in my clothes, panting and gasping quietly.

I let the boy stay there, not wanting to hurry him and to… hold him.

“Were you satisfied?” I quietly spoke, rubbing at his back.

Another moment as the boy popped into view again, showing off quite a dumb, but satisfied look.

“Yeah, yeah!” He laughed, his cockiness making a full return. “Was really, uh– Nothing I– But, ya know– yeah, yeah, felt pretty good!” All he could speak out was an incoherent sentence, but I got the gist of what he was trying to say.

My smile held gentler, speaking ever so softly once more, “That warms my heart.”

While his superiority had returned, it soon fell apart again, looking as he wanted to speak, unable to jumble out another mess of words.

I hazard a guess and told him, “You do not have to worry about me, Scout.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I mean, that’d be super gross if I touched your dick now! Hah, uhm… Yeah, ‘cause, this doesn’t mean anythin’ after all.” He seemed extremely relieved about that fact. Though, that was somewhat of a lie, for my intention at the start was to indulge in my own sick pleasure. Now, I find it difficult to continue any further then I already had. The boy had his fun, and he seemed more cheerful than he was before. That is enough to quell my own satisfaction, at least for the moment.

The boy found the energy to move off, picking up his headset again and hurrying together his clothing. Before I did the same, my sight went on my dirtied glove, looking at the mess the boy made.

_The mess Jeremy made…_

The last thing I needed was to backstab my enemies with a dirtied glove, so I slipped it off, snugging it deep in my suit’s pocket to clean for later.

“Hey, Spy,” the boy spoke again, catching my attention mid button snap. “Yeah, like… That wasn’t that bad and everythin’– not sayin’ I liked it because you were a dude or whateve’! Just, ya know, it was pretty good. And– And maybe I just wanted to know if this was some onetime thing or somethin’? Like, you’re not just bullshitin’ some elaborate convoluted plan over touchin’ my junk––“

“I will be more than happy to do this again, monsieur Scout,” I skipped passed the humoring, telling the boy my honest say for once.

He nodded, holding quiet while he bumbled to his feet. “We should, uh, get back to work,” he said, thumbing back at the exit out.

“Pardon,” I declined, motioning a hand to where the new Medipack had spawned. “But I have yet to heal.”

“Oh! Right, right.” He smacked at his bandaged shoulder with a laugh. “Don’t need another.” Silence emerged, the boy just standing where he was still, watching me snap the rest of my buttons together. Finished, I eyed to him, his shoulders jittering up from my gaze. “Ye– Yeah, catch you later, Spy!” Finally the boy hurried out, leaving me alone in this secluded place.

My sight held on the door for some time before turning to look at the Medipack. I picked to my feet, walking over to where it laid. But when I went to grab it, however, it slipped from my grip. I had to take a moment to understand, just looking at the pack below my feet before my sight went on my hands.

They were still shaking.

Soon, a horrible turning in my stomach began, already in the process of spewing disgusting bile up my throat. I backed against the wall to keep steady, trying to hold back such liquids. The pressure was too much and I ended up choking up, drenching my suit with vomit, making more spill on the floor. The burning sensation lingered in my throat, gagging me, the bubbling liquid still blocking my windpipe.

_Not again… Just––!_

I could barely keep steady anymore, sliding against the wall and hitting the floor. Everything was burning, from my stomach to my chest and throat. The sight of all this blood and vile only worsened this nauseating feeling, already wanting to upchuck for a second time. At this point, not even the Medipack would do me good, for such a sickness deserved a more extreme matter.

Some of my energy returned, and I took such a moment to reach for my pistol, able to hold it in my shaky fingers. Slowly, I moved the weapon up, pressing it against my temple. And the last thing I hear is the click of the trigger, and the loud echoing of a shot being fired.

–

Like always, I awoke inside the respawn, standing ready with my knife in hand. My sight instantly went on my hands, dropping my knife from my panic. To my relief, they had finally stopped shaking. My sight then went on my suit. Every spot of blood and bile was cleaned off my body– even my glove was clean of the boy’s essence.

“Kick the bucket, Frenchie?” A cheery Texan voiced called my way, looking back, unsurprised to find that it came from the laborer. He bended down, snatching the knife I dropped and handing it over. There was a slight pause from me, which I believe the man noticed. I faked a smile and laugh, thanking Engineer as I take back my knife.

“Sad to say,” I then began, snapping my knife back in its holster. “It is impossible to go a game without dying. Unless one is pathetic enough to cower in the respawn all day.”

“Hah, guess yer right there,” he nodded with a slight fix to his hardhat. “Can’t afford to die much myself, less my sentry––” Before the man could finish, a loud buzz ringed in his pocket. He hurried out a rectangular looking device with a small screen on the top and a big red button on the bottom. There were vibrations of lines going wild on the top screen, synching with the buzzing of the noise. “Aw, dang it! Spah sappin’ my Sentry!!” The laborer yelled, hurrying as fast as he could out the respawn.

My smile faded, and I heaved a heavy sigh. Again I looked at my hands, stretching them in and out and squeezing them into fists.

_It is fine… I am fine._

Those are the words I repeated to myself, finally making my way out the respawn the same.


	10. Reward

My misplaying had worsened.

Once it was a simple job; sneaking behind an absentminded man, snapping out my butterfly knife and twisting it deep into their backside. Now, it had become a tiring challenge, finding myself neither quick nor strong enough to get behind my target and land the killing blow.

“Bleedin’ Spook!” The RED Sniper hollered, smacking at his backside.

Once again, I messed up.

It was meant to be an easy kill– the man was standing completely still like always, focus deep in his scope. As I was approaching closer, sudden fear overcame me, believing that if I revealed myself this soon that I would be seen or heard. Such hesitation use to be in the past, when I was less experienced in my work and more cowardly at the thought of death.

When the RED suddenly made a shot and the echo of his bullet distracted his ear drums, I snapped open my knife as fast as I could. But my movements were slow and sluggish, unable to keep up with the man’s fast reloading. An unfortunate creak in the wood brought the man out from his scope, already moving to grab that giant knife that rested at his hip. Even with my cover blown, I took the risk and thrusted my knife forward, hoping for a clean landing. Alas, my aim was too far up, puncturing more of the RED’s shoulder than back.

The RED finally touched the metal of my knife, able to easily pull it out, clasping it strongly in his hand. He laughed, not even properly holding the weapon as he dangled it by the handle, shaking it over. “Why yah even bother comin’ back if yah can’t even get the job done!” He taunted, knowing how terribly I have been playing all game– there have been far too many times I have failed in killing the RED Bushman, and without any reasonable excuse for such mediocracy.

Bored of the weapon, he threw it aside, taking out his much bigger knife. Again, I hesitated instead of doing, only now remembering I held other weaponry– my pistol that I seem oh so happy to neglect. I had the advantage, but yet I acted too slowly.

The man grabbed at my throat with such firm ease, slamming me into a nearby wall, his melee inches away from my face. “ _Aww_ , naw yah just makin’ this too easy for me,” his cocky mockery continued. “Gonna mess up my kill count if an old coot like yerself can’t bring a challenge anymore!” Closer his knife came, the sharp tip already tearing into my mask and puncturing my cheek.

Death seemed inevitable, until I heard a sudden click of a gun firing aloud, causing me to close my eyes in slight surprise and panic. A warm gush of blood splattered all over my face, and the feel of the metal on my cheek as well as the tight hold on my neck was suddenly gone. I opened my eyes again, finding that the RED now lied dead on the floor, spilling out blood from his forehead. Small chips of wood landed on top of my head as I looked up, finding a bullet stuck in the wood– how grateful of my height to save me from getting blasted as well.

My sight went forward, finding someone else in front of me now. I hurried away the blood around my eyes, getting a good look of the boy standing before me. He cocked a cheeky smile, trying to play it cool by twirling his little pistol around, almost losing hold whilst doing so.

“Here’s your order: one dead dude, served rare!” Scout laughed aloud, pointing down at said meal– which was already rotting with a foul order of rust and _piss_.

“I prefer medium well,” I replied, carefully standing straight again, wiping more blood off my face. I waited for the corpse to disappear before moving off the wall, coming to where the boy stood. “Remarkable timing by the way.”

“Hey, hey!” Scout hurried his next say with a point. He seemed to take my comment in the wrong way, proceeding to defend himself, “I wasn’t, like, followin’ you or nothin’! It’s just that Soldier’s been rantin’ on about this douchebag headshottin’ him all game. Thought you were busy with other shit so, like, decided to do everyone a favor by committin’ a murder.”

_Oh mon, what a surprise to see the boy show some care._

I chuckled, “Why, it is not like you to be so thoughtful of others.”

“Gettin’ headshotted sucks anyway, so this is a win-win for all of us!” Again, he defended himself, even when his action was out of the goodness of his own heart. The boy truly must get embarrassed over truthful praise– that or he is trying to get people to praise him further, which is another believable enough assumption. 

Scout then asked me a most curious question, “You doin’ alright?”

“Pardon,” I began. “But why do you ask?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, seeming indifferent now. “You’ve been slippin’ a lot recently, that’s all.” He paused, fumbling next, “Not– Not that I was payin’ attention to that stuff or crap.”

“Really?” I played, noticing the slight fluster on his face. “My, it must be true if _you_ are scolding me.”

“C’mon, enough of that snark,” The boy laughed back, seeing passed my façade. “Just sayin’ how it is, that’s all.”

I continued anyway with my _snark_ , twisting some more praise into my words, “Maybe it is not that I am doing badly, but it is that you are doing so well that mistakes from others are more noticeable?”

That got the boy really smiling, trying to play off his coolness again with an arm stretch out, “Yeah, well, I _guess_ it is awesome how high my kill count is rocketin’ and how low my death count is droppin’.”

“The others may not admit it, but some of our recent wins would not have been possible without you.”

“Now you’re just tryin’ to butter me up. Not that I don’t mind,” he admitted– though, such a truth was not anything of a surprise.

While the discussion we held was just fun little banter, my intent for such words was to distract away from the topic on hand– I do not need the boy knowing how sickly I am becoming. But, with that said, these dumb little moments we have together are quite enjoyable.

The ringing of the ceasefire bell suddenly rang afar, cueing the end of today’s work. Another badly played game and another classic screaming session from Soldier himself. Such antics are more boring than stressful.

“Finally,” Scout said aloud, bringing my attention over. “Can really get a stink up goin’ when you’re not dyin’ every few minutes.” He placed his bat on his shoulder, heading his way out the room. However, I did not wish for him to leave just yet. So, I hurried forward, blocking the only exit out. He halted, even taking a few steps back to create distance between us. The boy blinked, quite confused on my sudden action.

Calmly, I stepped forward, the boy watching me approach. When the distance became too close for his liking, he stepped further back. I held a smile, halting where I was, awaiting to see if the boy would say or do anything. He just eyed over for a quick moment before looking away again, keeping silent– my, if it were always this easy to silence the boy.

I held a more quiet tone and said, “How can I be so rude as to not give you a… _reward_ for saving me?”

His eye-contact returned, truly exposing his flushed and tired look. Again, I moved forward, the boy again moving back until his body hit the wall and the bat in his hand dropped near his feet. Before long, I stood in front of him, my taller height making him look so small in comparison. Slowly, I brought a hand forward, laying it on his chest. I felt it expand, even more so the longer I held my touch.

Scout swallowed, muttering, “ _Aw geez_.”

My blooded fingers ran down, painting a nice streak of red down his blue work shirt. I stopped at the strap of his pants, pulling it down and exposing his colorful underwear. Soon, both of his pants and underwear fell further, stopping at his kneecaps, leaving his lower half completely exposed now.

“He–Hey, uh,” Scout started stumbling. “This is cool and all, but the other guys might get worried if we don’t head back soon.”

“Then we better make haste, oui?” I told him, my hand sliding between his thighs, moving up.

“And you’re all bloody everywhere and you probably want to get your suit all cleaned up and–– Oh god…” The boy stopped his complaining for the moment, hitching out a low breathy moan when the palm on my hand laid itself upon his flaccid cock. Even in such a state, it twitched slightly in response– a bodily reaction from a familiar feeling. One by one my blooded fingers wrapped around his cock, carefully grabbing a hold of it and helping it straight. I then stood next to him, one hand still around his cock and another around his waist to help keep him steady.

I whispered close to his ear, “The blood will help _smooth_ things.”

“Jesus,” the boy blenched with slight disgust. “Is that his blood or yours?”

His reaction humored that terrible side of me as I laughed back, “Perhaps both.”

“Jesus, Spy!” Again he blenched. Even with the indifference the boy held and the unsightly look of blood on his dick, Scout complained no further. All he did was stand there, quietly panting and swallowing, awaiting for my next action. So, I wasted no further time and began.

My jerking started slow, already making the boy shudder in the slight pleasure. We watched my work, seeing the hardening of his blood soaked cock spring before our eyes.

“You do not seem so worried about the others now,” my whispering continued.

Scout did another swallow, being as quiet as he could back, “Cause you’re, like, doin’ all that shit with your hand–– _Ah_ … It’s freakin’ good…” Such praise amused me– I am doing so little right now and the boy is completely euphoric. Encounters like this have been few over the days, only pleasing the boy with my hand alone and leaving myself untouched. I grew to enjoy touching Scout though, far more than having him touch me.

With each jerk I did, I changed in speed, surprising sweet moans from the boy. Such sensitivity is great to witness, but it may be his downfall if he cannot hold himself back when it is his turn to pleasure another.

“Miss Pauling may have a _feisty_ side,” I mentioned, the boy’s tired looking sight now on me. “She works all those tireless hours, and she would surely be disappointed if you could not… _keep up_ with her, oui?”

Scout frowned slightly and said, “I could totally go– go for hours, you hear me! _Aaah_ –– Fuc…” His assurance fell completely flat though, his mouth now agape as he continued to pant out.

“ _Hmm_ … Do tell me, monsieur Scout, do you ever find yourself rubbing one off during the battle?” I teased further, a little curious if he truly attempted something so shameful. 

“Wha… No way, that’s really–– _Nn_ … OK, maybe once in a while…” His words became quiet near the end, truly exposing his embarrassment on such a truth.

“Would you believe that I have as well?” Scout’s eyes sprung open, looking back in either disbelief or awe. Another amusing reaction, which almost made me feel bad for lying so easily about it. “Merely a jest,” I admitted with a small chuckle.

Again the boy held his frown, grumbling, “You’re really such a di– dick, Spy… _Haah_ …”

It was not long until the boy started spilling specs of pre-cum, heeding a warning on how terribly close his release already was.

“ _Ah_ –– Spy… gotta…”

“ _Ah-ah-ah_ ,” I chanted. “Not so quickly now.” My hand stopped at the tip of his cock, pressing my thumb down on his urethra. Scout shuddered and gritted his teeth like he was about to come, only to be greeted with disappointment when such a feeling never came.

“Fuck, just… Just keep goin’!” For once, he was not afraid to beg, eager to let loose his load.

“Pardon me,” I apologized, holding my terrible grin. “But you will disappoint your lover if you can only _pop_ once, and so soon at that.”

I waited for the boy to calm before beginning again, removing my thumb and taking a slow stroke down.

“ _AaH_ ––!” Scout gasped another moan, his hands smacking against the wood behind him. Truly, all I did was simply stroke once and again the boy was at the edge of coming.

“See, you are already so close,” I sighed, stopping.

Scout made no complaint this time, still panting but frowning ever so sadly. He seemed most disappointed with himself– never did I want to discourage the boy in such a way.

“Pardon, but I did not mean to come off so rude,” I said, holding a more sincere tone as to not come off sarcastic or mocking. “I just want to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself in front of Miss Pauling, let alone any other woman.”

The boy sucked heavily through his nose, slowly blowing out again. “Gimmie… Gimmie a minute,” he said, taking in another deep breath. I obliged his wish, holding still my hand, awaiting his next say.

We stood there, the sound of the boy’s quiet panting keeping the room from utter silence. I listened in, taking in the sounds he made, and feeling the warmth of not only his most vulnerable flesh in my hand but his entire being so close to mine. If not for his hat being in the way, I would also plant my face in his hair, probably smelling a foul mix of blood, sweat and the slight hint of generic berry shampoo the company offered us.

_Having Jeremy so close…_

“OK,” Scout spoke again, snapping me out of my haze. “I… I can hold out a bit longer this time, I promise.”

All I gave was a smile back, continuing again by doing a small stroke up his length. He bit his lips shut, holding back his moaning this time. The shaking of his body would not stop though, hearing his chipped nails drag into the wood, trying to grab onto anything. I held this slow and steady pace throughout, not wishing to surprise the boy like before. But even with the slight handicaps I gave, he was struggling to keep in control.

“Don’t force yourself to hold back if you cannot,” I quietly reassured, not wanting to see his own stubbornness get him harmed.

“I–I can… Nn––!” He grunted through his teeth, unable to even keep his eyes open anymore. I felt the beating of his cock franticly twitch, the tip forcing out specs of semen.

“It is fine, monsieur Scout. You may come if you wish,” my tone held sincere still, truly wishing to see his released fulfilled. I held back no further, hurrying my jerking, only stopping to tease at the head of his flesh before starting again.

“Wa– Wait, Spy––! _Aa–_ – _ahh_ ––!”

Scout cried out as he finally came, his essence spurting forward and painting the floor in droplets of pinkish white. I helped him through his coming, still jerking until he was finally spent of everything. The strength in his legs went limp the moment he finished, having to latch onto my body to keep still. When the softness of his cock returned, I carefully moved my hand away, examining the mess left behind. Semen and blood drenched down my fingers, dirtying the floor beneath us further.

“ _Haah_ … _Haa_ … I blew it,” Scout quietly laughed through his panting.

“Indeed you did,” I said, laughing the same.

“What’d I say about the snark, Jackass.” Scout playfully smacked a hand on my chest. I let the boy stay on me still, waiting patiently as he slowly regained strength in his legs again. My stare went back on my hand. I may have lingered my sight on it longer than necessary, only snapping out of it once the boy spoke up, “That was kinda good, ya know, holdin’ back a bit… Even if I still busted my load like some chump.”

“You are lasting longer compared to our past encounters,” I admitted, finally removing the filthy glove and snugging it into one of my pockets.

Even when the boy’s heavy breathing finally stopped, he still laid upon me. He crooked his head up, his shoulders jittering at the sight of my stare on him. Scout pulled himself together finally, wobbling back on his feet, almost falling over as the pants around his legs rubber-banded his movements.

Such a curious reaction made me ask, “Is something else the matter?”

“Huh?!” He squeaked out louder than usual, surprising even himself. He tried again, clearing his throat before barking up another laugh, “Nah, nah, it’s nothin’, nothin’!” Scout began pulling his pants together, terribly struggling to get them around his waist. The sight was more embarrassing to witness than humorous, and I debated if he needed the help on such a simple task.

Even after saying the issue was of nothing important, he continued rambling anyway, “OK, like, maybe I’m just a little mind blown about all this? ‘Cause, it wasn’t until a few days ago that we were tryin’ to avoid each other! You know, when you were bein’ all _creepy_ and then my stupid dumbass grabbed at your junk– which never really meant to mean anythin’ sexy or crap, honest! Really, like, it’s not like punchin’ you in the face would have done anythin’– we’ve all gotten punched in the face here––!”

“Stop,” I placed a hand out, truly wishing for him to stop before his rambling became too much. The boy thankfully did shut up, standing awkwardly, still unable to keep his pants up. Calmly, I asked again, “Just tell me what the issue is. And please, do it in ten words or less.”

Scout sighed, thinking before speaking for once. His stare went on me, and slowly he said, “It’s just… hard to believe you’d do any of this without anythin’ in return.” The sincerity in his words left me a bit speechless. There was a slight pause that befell us, the boy taking the moment to mutter to himself whilst counting up with his fingers.

“Scout,” I spoke before his rambling started again. “I would be more than happy to have you… _pleasure_ me in any sort.” I placed my ungloved hand on my chest, holding it there. “But do not feel obliged to do so– what we are doing means nothing after all, I promised you that.”

“Ye– Yeah,” he shakily nodded. “This doesn’t mean anythin’…”

Once Scout finally got his pants issue fixed, he walked over, standing in front of me now. His hand reached forward, stopping half-way, hesitating to touch my being. Slowly, I bring my other hand forward, taking his, laying it upon the hand that sat on my chest. His fingers slid between mine, squeezing quite tightly. Truly, I had almost forgotten how the simplest of touch can feel the most… comforting.

The moment was sadly interrupted, the sounds of heavy boots approaching our way. I could tell that the boy heard them as well, quickly taking his hand off and fumbling back. Before the boy could even open his mouth, I shushed over, pointing a finger at the ground, issuing for him to stay put. Whoever was approaching, foe or friend, I did not want them finding us together– unneeded questions would most likely befuddle the boy, making him blunder out more problems than answers.

While Scout looked reluctant at first, he thankfully understood and quietly nodded. He took out his pistol, hiding himself near a corner, looking ready to pop out if needed be. With him hidden, I finally made my way outside.

I expected the worse, but ended up more surprised than anything else. What I saw were a familiar two-paired group of gentlemen, thankfully wearing the colors of BLU instead of RED.

“Ah, Herr Spy!” Medic happily shouted once he saw me, hurrying over with Heavy closely behind. While the pair itself was not a surprise, seeing them not only so far out from the battlefield but also roaming about still was truly a strange sight.

Politely, I greeted back, “Bonjour, Monsieur Doctor, Monsieur Heavy. Why, what a curious place to meet, oui? Did you not hear of the bell? The battle ended oh not so long ago.”

Medic hummed, standing closer now, presenting his Medigun forward. I blinked at the Doctor before my sight went on the machine. I noticed a small screen in the front, blinking an image of a medical symbol. Rapidly, it grew faster the more he brought the machine closer to my being, and slower the further he pulled away.

“I do not know if you know, Herr Spy,” Medic exclaimed, fixing his glasses some. “But my machine tells me vhen people need ze healing. And you are terribly low.”

Once he said that, my sight went on my ungloved hand before looking down at my body. It was then that I realized how much of a mess I truly was. My suit was a complete wreck, covered in so much blood that I could come off as one of the REDs from afar. The cut on my cheek even started to flare up again, bleaching into my mask and dirtying my being even further.

“ _Ohh_ , yes,” I groaned, annoyed, once again wiping away blood off my face. “It appears that I may be in need of some healing.”

“On the field, your healzh is little to my concern,” the Doctor happily admitted, holding his smile still. “However, vhen off, it’s my greatest concern here– far passed Herr Heavy even.”

My sight went on Heavy for a moment. The man held quiet, looking around, his mini-gun still at the ready and waiting for the Doctor’s next move.

I returned to the Doctor, bringing my smile back and telling him, “Well, while I am happy to hear of your concern, I sadly have to tell you that my health has not been acting up recently.” A horrible lie, but I have grown tired of these meaningless check-ups the Doctor always wished to do. 

“Good! Zhat is an even bigger reason for a zhorough check-up, ja?” Medic persisted, acting out most excitedly than usual. An unsurprising outcome, for the Doctor is not a man to easily back down on any type of examination presented to him.

I admitted my defeat and sighed, “Very well, Doctor.”

“Vonderful! Let us make haste back to ze base,” Medic cheered, already making his leave towards the base. “Come along, Herr Heavy.”

“Da,” Heavy nodded, rolling his head over at me to follow before hurrying to catch up with the Doctor.

I watched as they left my view, eyeing back at the building. Of course, the boy’s stubborn curiosity did not let him stay hidden for long, his face poking out the door, wondering what was going on outside. He noticed my stare, and smiled over with a wave. I sighed, returning a smile and wave back. The happy look he held soon turned to fright, hurrying back into the building.

“Spy,” a loud booming voice called from behind. I did not have to guess who it was– the giant shadow over my being was enough to give away Heavy’s returning appearance. I turned around, finding the man uncomfortably close, truly astounding me of his much taller height. “Do not waste Doctor’s time. _Move_.”

“Of course,” I held my smile with a nod, finally taking my leave with Heavy and heading towards the base.


	11. Smile

The examination went as always, the Doctor checking over my wellbeing of any unusual or severe change. While he did not mention anything crucial throughout, I could tell by his annoyed scowl that he figured out how untruthful I was being. However bad my condition was, it was not amusing enough for the Doctor to let me fret over it.

Medic sighed, taking the buds of the stethoscope out from his ears. The man continued to keep quiet, heading over towards his desk and searching through his cabinets, looking for something. Whatever it was, it did not concern me. With everything checked and accounted for, I thought myself free, yearning to head out and finally take my shower for the day– hopefully avoiding Soldier’s wrath.

“Another moment, Herr Spy, if you please,” Medic called, hurrying away from his desk and returning towards the bed I still sat on. I could only fix my dirtied suit back on before he asked for me, straightening out the folding before continuing no further.

“I understand your worries, Doctor,” I rudely assumed his question, already giving him an answer. “But judging by your silence, I believe there is nothing more to discuss, oui?”

The Doctor again said nothing, only throwing something onto my lap– a file it seemed. I looked down, and then placed a hand on my chest, feigning utter delight, “Oh mon, for me? You are too kind, Doctor.” My mockery quickly dissipated though, looking down at the file once more and finding Scout’s title labeled across the front.

“I keep my files in a certain order,” the Doctor began, slow and firm. “You made a misstep putting Scout’s back.”

_Ah, yes, finding out such information did leave me a little befuddled._

The Doctor is a smart man, but he seemed so forward on the accusation that I committed such fraud– even though his guess is true. I could lie, but I felt that the Doctor and I were well associated enough to talk through this minor intrusion. It is my job to be _nosy_ after all, and it would be ignorant to think that the man saw this as a first offence, for I have committed such an act more than once.

I held my smile, attempting to sound apologetic, “Oh, do pardon me! Never did I mean to rudely look through your things––“

“You do know zhat you and Scout have ze same blood, ja?”

Any humorist wit I held vanished, caught off-guard on such an outrageous but truthful accusation.

When I had yet to speak, Medic continued, “Vant to see for yourself? I have all the info– not only in my files, but in my database as vell.”

“You… must have made a mistake, Doctor,” my voice had quieted, even faltered some. I forced a smile, trying to bring confidence back in my voice again. “And truly, it is amusing for you to think the boy and I are related in any way. We are far different men, even looking passed our maturity.”

“Oh, I know I am not vrong. Medicine does not lie,” Medic happily went on. “Ze boy is afraid of anyzhing involving needles or doctors, so I made sure to take more than the usual from him. Herr Heavy had to carry him back towards his room– his body lacked the blood cells to function correctly.”

Such an unheard action angered me, standing off the bed and rudely raising my voice, “Doctor, punishing the boy over his own stubbornness is––!” Only near the end did I realize how loud I was being. The Doctor tilted his head, quite amused at my outburst. I settled back on the bed, hands held together, clearing my throat. “Whether the data is even truthful or not, such accusations should not be said so easily. I doubt anyone would like hearing they are related to that… loudmouthed juvenile.”

“Hoh, I suppose knoving such knovledge vould disgust even I,” the Doctor chuckled. “Zhough, if the boy was of my own blood, I vould not stand by on such an embarrassment of the family vithout proper _treatment_.”

“Doctor, I… doubt you can simply change a man, whatever _medical_ matters you wish to condemn on him.”

“ _Hmm_?” The Doctor hummed, grinning. “I thought you vould be agreeable on such an idea. The boy could learn a thing or two on patience, ja?”

 _Perhaps…_ The Doctor can be downright cruel in his practice, being more than happy to do the most heinous of experiments if it were to help _benefit_ the team. If it were anyone else, I may have agreed– not so much as to see him go through with the action, non. Still, hearing him say that so openly and without a moment of hesitation disturbed me.

Medic continued, waving a hand in the air as he walked back towards his desk, “Vell, Herr Scout is not related to me, so such extremes are unnecessary.” A part of me was relieved hearing that, for once finding a positive in the boy’s connection with my being. The Doctor reached his desk again, leaning back on it. “But if you still do not believe he is related to you, Herr Spy, I am more zhan happy to check over my findings again.” He snatched a piece of paper off the desk, shaking it over. “Zhough, if such information ends up coming up true again, I must confess to ze admissions zhat my extensive use of zheir resources vere from ze request of _you_.”

I found myself in quite a troublesome circumstance– the wrath of the Administrator is far worse than Soldier himself. The Doctor is a man who cannot accept being wrong, but for this case he is far from that. Lying is an impossibility here.

The Doctor shrugged, laying the paper he held back on the table. “I may be no _man of mystery_ ,” he began, adjusting his glasses some. “But I’ve learned as much information if not more from my vork zhan you may believe. The fact alone zhat you found some sort of correlation with yourself and ze boy says enough, ja? Vhy else vould you hold such an open attitude? I doubt your distaste for the boy vould make you expose such an… _ugly_ side of yourself.

“Fine, perhaps we may have some relation,” I finally admitted, again being impolite. The mood on the Doctor went soured. “He is on our side, oui? Such trivial knowledge will not affect my work– I have done my job as long as you have, Doctor.”

“Of course, your talents are a vonder, Herr Spy,” Medic suddenly praised. “Ze others always know I am zhier for ze healing, but you always risk your being so far from the rest, and wizhout any hesitation or complaints eizher– unlike the boy himself. Really, if I hear the boy calling out for ze healing so far from the rest, I may as well go insane!” Medic could not help but laugh aloud at that. He quickly settled, returning to form. “A question, if I may?”

I sighed, “If you must.”

“Just mere clarification– does ze boy know? Obviously, if he did, he vould not shut up about it, ja?”

Such a question should have been easy to answer, but I held silent. I do not believe the boy even once thought of me as a father, let alone any sort of relative. That was fine– it _is_ fine. I do not… wish for such information to be leaked, especially after everything I have done with… _Jeremy_.

The Doctor suddenly stood to his feet, hands behind his back now, walking towards me. “Herr Spy,” he began, slow and calm. “Zhis… _relationship_ you vish to commit with ze boy.”

My eyes widen.

Medic went on, “I am a man who has tilted the scale of morality more zhan once– far be it me to scold you on such _unnatural_ zhings.” Medic stopped in front of me, shadowing over my being. “Still, I would be cross if I did not speak my opinion on yours twos… _sexual engagement_.”

Silence.

I was completely speechless– Mon dieu, I could not even imagine when or where or even how I messed up so fast. I did not want to think ill on the boy, believe he may have slipped up and exposed our engagement without realizing.

Medic laughed, a hand on his mouth, “I was merely joking, Herr Spy.” Again he laughed, soon calming. “Zhough, ze stupid look you are giving me says ozhervise?” He once again held a smile, an unnaturally gentle smile that was hard to properly understand. I was unsure if I just played myself, exposing my own foolish emotion like a young child who had just lied to their parents. Non, the Doctor is merely playing with me, that is what he is doing.

“ _Hmm_ ,” Medic again hummed. “It is unlike you to be so quiet. Are you sure you are vell?” His rubber glove reached out, touching my forehead as to check on my temperature. I was not in the mood for his games, rudely smacking his hand away and standing straight. Medic shrugged, backing away to keep space between us. My stay here is far over welcomed. I proceeded to button my suit back in place whilst heading towards the door out.

The Doctor called, “I do not plan to expose your indulgence to the ozhers.” Regretfully, I turned to face him, his unnerving smile still wide as ever. “Ve need everyone at tip-top shape on the field after all, ja? Being distracted over questionable ezhics is the last zhing zhese men need.”

Medic walked my way, standing in front of me once again. “I am a Doctor, not a psychologist,” he explained. “I do not know ze impact on the boy’s mentality if he vere to find out you are related to him. Assuming he can get passed his denial over not only engaging vith a man far passed his age, but a man vho just happened to be… Vell, I can only presume the relation, because I do not know exactly vhat you _are_ to Herr Scout.”

My silence held still, only exposing my utter loathing back on the Doctor. His say or issue on the matter is just for me and Scout– far from what we are doing is unhealthy, he is a grown man and so am I! Scout is capable enough to handle his own decisions!

Medic sighed, shaking his head, “My advice may seem unnecessary, but I vish to remind you of vho you are, Herr Spy.” His face moved in slightly closer to mine, far too close to my liking now. “You must handle zhis issue as a _proper gentleman_ and not a child.”

“I am not acting like a _child_ , monsieur Doctor,” I spoke, my voice grumbling through my throat in anger. The Doctor only stared at me, keeping quiet. I took the silence back as the end of our discussion, stepping away. “If we are done here.”

“Just a second,” Medic spewed out another sentence. He hurried through his coat pocket, hiding an object tightly in his palm. He reached out and grabbed both of my hands, sneaking the object in one and placing my hand over my other. “Please consider your twos safety if you vere to ever engage in further _sexual activity_.”

I blinked, opening my hands, finding a colorful condom sitting on my palm.

Another chuckle from the Doctor as he continued, “Of course, zhere is no need to fear about eizher one of you getting pregnant. And both of you– especially you– are surprisingly clean.”

“…How _heartwarming_ ,” I muttered, not sure how to properly react.

“Healzh is always my first priority, Herr Spy,” Medic brought back his smile, one less unnerving and more cheerful again.

My patience was done, throwing the small piece of plastic into my coat pocket, snapping back at the Doctor, “I am taking my leave.”

“I am glad ve could have zhis chat,” Medic’s voice faded away as I left, soon disappearing from his sight as the medical door swung close behind.


	12. Polite

Once more, the end of the month appeared, Miss Pauling returning again and giving out new assignments for the mercenaries to complete. As usual, I stood away from the group, waiting for the crowd to disperse before making my move over. My bud was almost out, the wait seeming longer than usual– many must have a plentiful of new jobs they need discussed.

My sight soon went on the boy on the other side of the room, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. Scout had yet to join the others, standing about and shaking his leg most impatiently. He made eye-contact over at the group– more specifically, he eyed at Miss Pauling.

This morning, he seemed so eager to speak with the young woman, saying that today was the day he would man up and ask her out already. Considering how much time had passed and he had yet to move from that spot, I doubt much of his talk meant true.

_Well, we cannot have that._

Most of the men had separated by now, the only one left speaking with the woman being Pyro. The time seemed right, and I stood off the wall I leaned on, smooshing my bud on the ground with the heel of my foot. Scout had yet to notice my presence as I came over, standing beside him now. His sight still held on the woman– the boy should know staring is rude.

“Were you not given any work again, monsieur Scout?” I asked. Scout’s shoulders jittered up, finally taking notice of me. He did not complain though, only opening his mouth before closing it, sight slowly turning back on Miss Pauling once again. “Miss Pauling does not seem as occupied for the moment. Perhaps _now_ she has the time to talk?”

Scout puffed out loudly. He then nodded, looking more eager to make his move. However, eagerness can only get one so far.

I sighed, “ _Halt_ ,” and grabbed at the back of his shirt, bringing him backwards. Scout yelped a noise, exposing quite an annoyed look over but saying nothing. “Don’t slouch,” I began lecturing, nicking his hat off and fixing up the slight mess in his clothing. “Keep your chin up. Eyes leveled on her head– _her head_ , boy, nothing lower.” I grabbed at his chin, crooking it side to side before pushing it further up. The boy seemed more confused than annoyed now, letting me move his body about like some mannequin.

My hands flatten down his messy hair– but only once, not wanting to get distracted on the mess. Done with that, I stepped back and gave him some room. “And _please,”_ I almost begged, knowing well that his mouth was going to screw himself over more than his looks. “Get to the point. Miss Pauling is a very busy woman, and she cannot have her time wasted on useless jabber.”

“Uh, what– what should I say?” Scout finally spoke up with a question. His eagerness seemed lost again, looking more nervous now in both in his tone of voice and the sad look he held.

“Just be polite,” I replied with a smile. “And simply ask her when she is free for a date.”

Scout nodded back, perking up once more, ready and willing to take action. “Right,” he said, showing off a big bright smile. “Thanks, Spy.” Finally, the boy hurried his way over towards Miss Pauling.

_S'il te plait dieu, please let this go well…_

Pyro had finally gone off his way, leaving Miss Pauling alone with the loud phone echoing beside her ear. She sighed, flipping through paper after paper, looking for something but utterly frustrated over not finding it.

“Yo, Miss P!” The boy greeted most informally, trying to act off his more _cool_ and _collected_ self like usual.

“Oh, Scout,” she said back, sounding not so enthusiastic or excited at the moment. “Just who I needed.”

“Really– Ehem, _Really_ now?” The boy was already fumbling, but he did best to recover.

Miss Pauling handed out a slip a paper over, telling Scout, “I have some work for you.”

“Awesome,” he cheered a little louder than needed be, snatching the paper. “Always happy to work my butt off for _you_ , Miss P.”

Miss Pauling quirked a small smile, but soon became distracted on the loud noise reverberating from her phone. She turned away, continuing her conversation with the person yelling at her on the other end, replying back with varying half-hearted _yes_ and _nos_.

Scout hesitated, but quickly spoke up again, “Uh, just a sec, Miss P!”

Miss Pauling looked back, confused, a hand clamped on her phone so she could properly hear the boy. “What is it, Scout?” She questioned at first, and then guessed what the issue may be, “Oh, I didn’t give you the wrong paper now, did I?” Miss Pauling began searching through her many bags, most likely looking for papers Scout already held.

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” Scout admitted, making the girl stop. ”Just wanted… Just wanted to know if you had any spare time in the future? Like, going out, catching a movie, eating some chicken.”

Miss Pauling said nothing, only giving a strange look back. Her attention was off the phone though, which implied she held more intrigue on the boy than her work– for the moment at least.

When she had yet to reply, Scout tried rephrasing himself a bit, “Or anythin’ else, doesn’t _need_ to be chicken! You heard of this thing called _Sushi_? Expensive as shit, but I heard it’s really good– we should totally get some! Anything fancy or pricy, I got it handled.”

“You want to hang out together?” She finally replied, if a little bluntly.

“Yeah!” Again, Scout let the volume of his voice boom louder than he needed. He cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean, yeah. That and... You probably need it because you’re always workin’ your butt off and all. Doin’ crap alone is borin’– that’s why I’m more than happy to spend time with you on whateve’. ‘Cause there’s, like, no other gals around here and you could use someone as awesome as me by your side. Even when you wanna go out and do all the _womeny_ stuff like, er, whatever gals do when they hang out together.”

Again, Miss Pauling held quiet, holding a look of concern. She thought for some time, the boy thankfully being patient and awaiting an answer.

Miss Pauling finally spoke, “Sorry.”

_Ah, that was what I was afraid of._

She apologized again, “I am sorry, Scout, but I really, _really_ , cannot spare any time at the moment.”

I thought positively on the matter before, hoping that the girl would at least give the boy a chance. Though, even if she were to say yes now, it would be far from her own interest and more out of pity. I debated if I should go over and interfere, or at least try to lighten the mood up so the issue was brushed aside.

Scout continued on though, seeming unfazed by her reply, “Like I said, whenever you have the time, we can plan then. Gotta have a break comin’ soon, yeah?” While his spirit was strong, it was obvious that the girl held no interest.

Miss Pauling tried again, “How about we talk about this another time.” I wished for the poor girl to just admit how she felt, for the round-about talk is making the matter worse. I myself would have taken the hint, but Scout is not smart enough to understand the– how to say– _complexity_ of a woman’s mind.

“Another time?” Scout still persisted. “I mean, we really don’t get to talk much at all, and– and I wanna get more time to do that.”

“How about we pick up from next month then?” Her next say was hurried, turning away from the boy, continuing her mindless jabbering in her phone again.

“But,” Scout’s voice quieted, so much so that it was hard to hear it from where I stood. I sighed, deciding to take action, walking over as to settle the mood. However, I was only able to move a few feet forward before the boy’s voice raised, “Wait, just another sec!”

Scout had suddenly intruded into Miss Pauling’s space, almost cornering her up against a wall. He grabbed a firm hold of her arm, making her drop her phone in horrific surprise. “I know you’re busy,” he continued to yell– it was hard to tell if he even realized how loud he was being. “But just give me a chance, Miss P! I just wanna get to know––!”

What happened next went in a flash– even the boy had to take a moment to realize an object just presented itself right in front of his face. Miss Pauling now held a gun in her free hand, pressing the muzzle against the boy’s forehead. She exposed such a cold look of utter disregard, seeming more than happy to pull the trigger if Scout were to do anything more _risqué_.

There was a beat in the entire room, no one able to properly understand the scene that just befell them– even I was put in a daze, just staring like the rest. Heavy was the first to respond, standing up from where he sat and walking his way over.

Heavy began, low and calm, “Little man should let go––“

While Heavy sounded like he wanted to solve this issue peacefully, another person interfered before he could do so, one no one expected to see coming.

Sniper had suddenly rushed over in such a speed no one ever witnessed, tearing Scout off Miss Pauling and slamming his fist right into the boy’s face. Such an action surprised the woman, making her drop her gun and stumble back. Scout had fallen quite hard on the floor, groaning and hissing from the impact. Sniper was not satisfied yet, moving on top of the boy and proceeding to pummel Scout further.

Demoman rushed over, grabbing Sniper’s arm. “Oie!” He shouted, trying his best to pull the man off. “Take it easy, Sniper!”

Soldier came next and shouted the same, “What is your major malfunction!?” He helped Demoman by grabbing Sniper’s other arm, finally able to pull the man up and off Scout. Sniper grunted and snarled as he fought against the two, trying to wrestle free.

The men dragged Sniper further away, giving Scout the chance to straighten up where he sat. Once I saw blood drench his bandaged hand, I could not help but hurry over and help him stand to his feet again. He hid his face away with his arms whilst I did this, most likely not wishing to expose how weak he looked.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” the boy grunted harshly through his teeth, pushing me aside and stumbling away.

Medic came to where Miss Pauling stood, wishing permission to check over her arm. “Miss Pauling, are you vell?” he asked, offering a hand out.

“Oh… Fine– Fine!” She forced a laugh, being pesky with the hair that was unable to circle around her ear. “It’s not the first time that’s happen– would you believe that?” Again she laughed before swallowing aloud, sight on Sniper. “Sniper, I– I would prefer not to see someone get murdered right in front of me.”

Sniper seemed defeated after hearing that, his struggling finally coming to a stop. He said nothing, head held low, hiding his expression away from everyone around him.

Miss Pauling then looked at Scout. “Scout, uh…” She began with a stutter before clearing her throat. “I’m just _really_ busy with a lot of things and– and I just have to decline for now. Really, I… Sorry.”

Scout did not speak, nor did he even turn around to look at Miss Pauling as he still held his back on everyone.

“A mere checkover vill only take a moment,” again, the Doctor insisted.

Miss Pauling waved a hand over, “Really, I’m fine– I’m way behind on a lot of things and I really have to go.” She hurried away from the Doctor, picking up her gun and phone, stuffing the weapon back into a bag and carrying her phone between her neck and shoulder. “See you all next month!” She called back with an unnaturally forced smile, making her leave out.

Once everything had calmed some, Demoman and Soldier let off of Sniper, still keeping a close a distance just in case he started acting up again. All sight then went on the boy, each mercenary looking down on him in either disgust or disappointment.

Medic sighed aloud, “Come here, Herr Scout,” he waved as he walked over towards the boy, pulling his arms away from his face so he could get a good look over. “Let me check the bruise.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Scout whined, shaking his head away from Medic’s touch.

Medic muttered some indescribable German and shouted back, “Zhis is not ze time for stubbornness!” He grabbed harshly on the boy’s face, keeping it in place even through the struggling. Such brutish force seemed unnecessary– the man is a Doctor after all, he should not be rough on his own patient.

I tried to get a say in, coming closer, “Doctor, perhaps you should––”

But I was interrupted when the Bushman started yelling again, “Bleedin’ mongrel!” That got the boy to react, his blooded and battered face now exposed for the others to see. When the Bushman started coming closer to us, Soldier blocked his way. Sniper tried pushing through with no avail, but was more than happy to continue his ranting, “Yah just don’t go off grabbin’ a gal like that– the hell is wrong with yah?!”

“Herr Sniper, it is over,” Medic scolded back with a frown, truly not in the mood for anymore yelling or violence.

Soldier pushed Sniper back, proceeding to intervene further in the man’s space by slamming a finger into his chest and screaming, “We cannot have men acting out on emotional judgement!”

“Sod off, wanker!!” Sniper retaliated back by pushing Soldier the same, making the man’s helmet shake off his head and spin across the floor. The action infuriated Soldier, charging straight back at Sniper, more than ready to start another fight. Demoman rushed to grab Soldier by his shoulders, holding the man back from doing such that.

“Now we don’t need ye to start makin’ trouble either!” Demoman tried persuading, wrestling to keep Soldier in place as the man would not keep still.

“Heavy, I believe Sniper and Soldier should keep their distant vith everyone here, ja?” Medic suggested over at Heavy. Heavy nodded back, walking over and standing between the heated men, arms crossed, attempting to threaten them away with his taller height.

Soldier only grumbled, shrugging Demoman off before retreating back to pick up his helmet.

Sniper scuffed, “I can keep my own bloody distance, thank yah very much.” He backed away from everyone, turning around once he reached the hallway out and left.

It grew quiet, everyone muttering to each other while the boy moaned quietly in pain still.

Medic once again sighed, “Come.” His hand comforted the back of Scout’s, a rare form of solace I never sought possible from the Doctor. “Let us head towards ze medical ward.”

“Heavy follow,” Heavy requested, walking with the two men as they headed out the room as well. I witnessed the look the boy held as they passed by– the look of utter dread and regret.

The room that was bustling with all nine men lowered to five, including myself. Everyone who remained stood about awkwardly, only moving slightly to scratch a part of their body or cross their arms.

“Say, ya’ll!” Engineer was the first to break the ice, lifting the mood some with his cheery laughter. “Know it’s a bit early, but why don’t we get that poker game rollin’?”

“Aie, sounds good to me!” Demoman joined, perking up a smile. He hugged an arm around Soldier, laughing heartily at the man who still held a terribly angry scowl. “Doesn’t it, mate?” He laughed again, shaking Soldier.

“Mrr… Right,” Soldier grumbled, letting the brim of his helmet hide his eyes away.

“Don’t think Sniper’s goin’ be willin’ the join up,” Engineer commented, regretting even mentioning the man after he finished.

“Join?!” Soldier– of course– began shouting. “The only way he is going to join is by being my personal footrest!”

“Relax, mate,” Demoman reassured, helping to ease the man by doing a friendly rub to his shoulder. Soldier grumbled another noise, thankfully saying nothing more of the issue.

Pyro seemed a little lonely from all the talk, tugging at Demoman’s shirt as to gain his attention. He muffled a noise, pointing at his being with a slight tilt to his head.

“Of course!” Demoman laughed aloud again, bringing his other arm around Pyro and hugging him close. “Yer always welcome to join.”

“I dunno, Firebug has a mean poker face,” Engineer joked, joining in the laughter.

The once tense room filled with cheer and laughter, the men more than excited on the activities planned ahead. My being stood far away from the rest though, staying quiet, unable to get pass the scene that just befell everyone mere minutes ago.

_Such a look felt so… wrong for the boy to have._

“Hey, Spah!” Demoman called, taking notice of me. “Ye promised me a date, remember?”

“…I apologize, monsieur Demoman,” I could not even give the men a proper reason for my decline, rudely walking away. None of the men questioned further, just watching as I quietly headed out the room.

–

I stood outside the medical room, another new bud in hand, waiting for Medic to finish his work on the boy. Time seemed to go by slower than usual, my impatience making me look at my watch whenever a new minute struck.

I wished to see the boy more confident, but not anything violent or pushy. Going into battle… killing and dying day by day– merde, I should have known better! The world surrounding our job is far the same as the world outside after all, that is why I let myself forget that Scout is my _son_. I trust _Jeremy_ to know better, but one can easily lose control of their humanity when knowing death is a mere inconvenience.

 _Hah_ … Though, what help have I been in the end, committing not only on my own disgusting urge but also on withheld pleasure the boy had for a woman who does not show interest back.

_Pathétique._

The door finally swung open, Scout dragging himself out. He picked up his tired head, noticing me. A giant bandaged was taped around his cheek, hiding the giant bruise that peered slightly at the edge. The bandages that used to be around his hands were gone, leaving them naked and vulnerable. His lips pursed, holding himself back from speaking. Scout could not even look at me anymore, his head once again held low.

I _should_ be angry. I _should_ be scolding _Jeremy_ for thoughtlessly committing on such a disrespectful act. Alas, I cannot. He had been through enough already– far more than he even needed to be. My part here is much to blame, and it would be hypocritical of me to reprimand him even further when he is already at his lowest.

I began, quiet and calm, “Scout––“

But the boy held no patience in staying, nor did he wish to speak with me. He just ran, rushing down the hallway, disappearing from my view as he finally made it around the corner.

“Scout!” My voice echoed through the hall, hoping that it would reach out and bring the boy back. He did not come back, leaving me standing about like a noisy fool.

The door soon swung open again, the Doctor appearing before me. He did not even hide his cold and uncaring glare, knowing my role in today's unfortunate event.

“You should give ze boy some time to himself,” he said, slow and quiet. I glared back, rudely puffing smoke his way when taking my bud out. Admitting that the Doctor may be right was not something I was going to expose, only huffing back at him as I proceeded to walk by. The Doctor did not take kindly to my attitude, rudely grabbing at my arm to keep me in place. “And I _mean_ zhat, Herr Spy.”

I just gave another huff, freeing myself from his hold and continuing my way down the hall.

On my own terms, I will indeed give the boy his time alone until the matter has cooled off. Until then, I am not sure what I will do to pass the time…

_Perhaps I will join with the others._


	13. Personal

I was greeted with a warm welcome back from my fellow mercenaries, the make-shift table they sat around suspiciously having a spare seat just for moi. The poker game went on for perhaps hours, everyone half-drunk and hollering in laughter. For me, I was casually sipping on my half-drunken glass, not so much in the mood to get wasted on cheaply crafted liquor in a bottle– the company could loosen its own cheapness when it came to alcohol.

Engineer once again took another victory, laying his cards on the table, exposing his fifth flush in a row. His streak of luck was unnecessary, for the competition he faced was non-existent. My poker skills have always been on the passive side– I can only win by cheating, and it would be rude of me to use such a skill on a friendly little game. Demoman’s aggressiveness made him easy to tell, even more so as the stacks of bottles on his side grew larger with each loss. Pyro was far too focused on stacking his little tower of cards to be actually playing, and as for Soldier…

“These cards are broken!” Soldier roared out, most furious on his terrible losing streak. “Every game my cards have been completely numberless and red!”

The other three men chuckled amongst themselves, still continuing to not point out the poor fool’s least intelligible act by far. The amusement of his foolishness soon tired me though, finally placing pity on the simpleton.

“Monsieur Soldier,” I politely said, nicking one of the man’s exposed cards and turning it the right way round. “You are holding your cards backwards. You have been holding them backwards _all game_.”

Soldier squinted closely at his hand, mumbling to himself before finally shouting over, “I knew that!”

The laughter from the other men got the table roaring again– more so when Soldier humored along and joined. But, as fun as the antics were, they had gone on for far too long.

My sight went on my watch, finding that the day was already half-done and the evening was soon approaching.

“Pardon me, gentlemen,” I said, already getting up from my seat. “As fun as this was, we still have work tomorrow. It would be quite an embarrassment to lose because of overconsumption now.”

“And here I thought all French-people were heavy drinkers,” Engineer jokingly remarked as he sipped on his bottle.

“ _Please_ ,” I played along, sighing with disgust. “I had to cut back on some of the horrendous stereotypes you _butterfat_ Americans like to label us.”

“Ah, gotta hit where it hurts,” he laughed back with a smack to his chubby stomach. Engineer soon stood the same, grabbing a handful of bills he won and shoving them into pocket after pocket of his overalls. “Alrighty fellas, let’s call it for the day.”

“Oie!” Demoman rose to his feet quite quickly, if a little stumbly. “Ye only agreein’ with Spah ‘cause ye stole all me money!” He tried pointing at the man, his shaky finger unable to hold still.

“Just because I lost every battle does not mean I’ve lost the war!” Soldier raised his own complaint, crossing his arms, still sitting like he was just demanded to get off his seat.

The two stared Engineer down, freezing him where he stood. Engineer turned his head my way, nudging a signal over, most likely asking for some form of backup.

I just smiled back and said, “I bid you all Adieu.” Engineer’s fuming face was quite an adorable sight, but sadly one I could only witness for a few mere seconds.

Once I made it out the room and into the hallway, I reached through my pocket, looking for my cigarette case. However, I stopped before finding it, feeling someone tug quite rudely at the back of my suit. When I turned to look, I found Pyro of all men, holding the end strap of my suit. He continued to hold onto me still, even when I was looking right at him, wondering what he needed of me. As gently as I could, I touched the rubber of his glove, pulling it away and letting it fall in the air.

Politely, I asked, “Yes? What is it my flame-happy friend?”

Pyro suddenly threw his arm forward, showing me that he was holding a hat in his hand– Scout’s hat to be more precise. Yes, I remember taking it from him before he went off to make a terrible fool of himself. Though, with the way Pyro held it, it seemed less like a baseball cap now and more of a crumpled newspaper cap. I reached out, taking the object, examining to see the damage done. Thankfully, a quick whip in the air unfolded the mess back together again.

“You should not be so careless with others belongings,” I gently scolded over, holding the hat out. Pyro refused to take it, pushing it back into me. My reaction was to only blink, unsure what the man wanted next. He started muffling aloud, pointing at the hat than back at me before placing his hands on his hips.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, even I could not properly understand what these men said behind their masks. Still, I could not just stand about with a dumb look on my face now.

I faked a smile, questioning the man, “Pardon, are you asking _me_ to take this to the boy?”

Pyro nodded.

“I do not understand why you see me as the better option here. You and the boy _must_ get along better, oui?” My say was more of a question, for I did not know the answer myself.

Pyro only shook his head, again pushing the hat into me. Before I could say another word, he quickly waved his goodbye, running back towards the commons, the screaming and shouting from the room cueing that the game had started all over again.

My sight went on the boy’s hat, staring at it for some time. I sighed, deciding on my next course of action and making my way down the hall.

The journey was not long at all, finding myself already standing in front of Scout’s door, just staring at it for an unhealthy amount of time. The incident happened not so long ago, and I was not sure if it was right to check up on him just yet. Perhaps I do not need to be so worried– I merely wished to return his hat, there was no harm in doing just that.

I took in a deep breath, finally knocking on the door and calling out, “Excuse me, monsieur Scout? It is me.”

Nothing.

I continued, “Pardon my intrusion, but I have forgotten to give you your hat back.”

Still nothing.

I waited this time, continuing again, “I also… wished to know how you were doing.”

A sudden thud and clank rattled on the other side, and I could not fathom what the noise may have even been. I pressed my head on the door to listen in further, but was only met with more silence.

“Monsieur Scout,” I called again. “Are you alright in there––?”

Loud thumping footsteps suddenly echoed in frightening speed, making me jump back in a panic, barely dodging away as the door swung open and slammed hard against the wall.

“ _Heeey_ , fancy-pants!” Scout slurred most horribly, smooshing his bandaged cheek against the door with the goofiest smile. “Hey, there’s my hat!” He swiftly stepped forward and snatched his hat back, not even attempting to wear it properly as the brim of the cap stuck behind, the open strap in front making his unkempt hair poke through.

I had to take a moment to think, shaking my head and blinking in utter disbelief. I examined carefully on the boy’s wellbeing, noticing that he was out of uniform and wearing more casual brand-like clothing. The appallment of his wear only distracted my focus for so long, finally picking my head up to look at his face– as barbaric as it is for me to say, the boy was completely and utterly _shitfaced._

I sighed, most irritated now, “Scout, please do not say you are drunk.”

“Drunk?!” He gasped, quite appalled at such an accusation. “Nah, nah, like– like maybe three beers? No, no, I’m holdin’ one right now– four beers!”

_Fantastic. How nice it is to know that Jeremy is still a blundering buffoon._

Distracted with my own annoyance, I had yet to realize that Scout had grabbed at my arms, pulling me forward.

“C’mon, c’mon,” He repeated. “What’cha standin’ out here for? C’mon in already!” He continued pulling until finally throwing me inside his room. I fumbled forward, able to keep to my toes, hurrying myself straight and proper again. Scout recklessly slammed the door behind, coming over, continuing to push me further forward until we reached his bed. He finally stopped the pushing, standing next to me now, waiting for me to sit down– all whilst expressing such the stupidest look over.

_Well… I did wish to talk with the boy._

I brushed aside some unmentionables on his bed, making room for me to sit down. Scout just plopped himself down, so hard that it made me bounce a little from the impact. He then shook the opened bottle he held over, the contents within being half-empty already. I forced a smile, hesitatingly grabbing at the bottle and just staring at it.

“Thank you… But I must decline,” I said as politely as I could, carefully setting the bottle on a small drawer that sat near his bed. Scout seemed to forget about the bottle all together, slumping right on me, chuckling at absolutely nothing.

He began saying aloud, “Man, like, I’m so glad you came around– Remember the shit I pulled this mornin’? I freakin’ blew it so hard out there, didn’t I?! _Hah_ , like, you know you’ve fucked up when a gal aims a gun right at your face, yeah?” He pointed a finger at his face, quickly pulling it back. “ _BOOM!_ Headshot!”

“Yes… And you will do best to apologize to Miss Pauling once she returns,” I lectured back. The boy seemed unamused with my response, moving off for the moment. “She may be more open to talk with you once you do. If not, you best respect her wishes––”

“I get it, Spy, I got it!” Scout smacked my back with another hearty laugh, forcing me forward a bit. “ _Ha!_ Wouldn’t be drinkin’ if I didn’t understand!” His sudden confession was either a slip of the tongue, or an unintentional remark that the boy would never dare tell himself if he was sober.

Scout once again slumped closer, snugging his head into my neck this time and hugging around my waist. His voice lowered, doing his best to whisper out, “Hey, hey, Spy… Do you– Do you like, like me or somthin’?”

Scout was always quite passive when it came to our more sexual engagements, distancing himself from me when around others and hesitating to make a move when alone– his intoxication is proving quite otherwise at the moment. Wetness pressed against my neck, and the sound of loud and embarrassingly suckling noises echoed next to my ear.

“Cause your always happy to get all dirty with me, _heheh_ ,” Scout mumbled out in drunken slurs, drenching my neck with more drool than his lazily made kisses.

I cared little of his drunken flirtation, easily pushing him off as he fell back, hackling away like a buffoon. He swung back up, the force winding off his hat and exposing his frizzled up hair again. All his laughter soon tired himself, seeming to have given up all together as his head then fell on my lap, muttering into my slacks. His head turned, cheek smooshing against my leg, again exposing quite a terribly silly look.

“Ghimmie muh dhrink bachk,” more of his muttering spewed, his hand reaching forward at the bottle sat further away.

“Non,” I declined, smacking his hand down. “No more.”

“Psh,” he spitted. “If there weren’t two of ya, I’d fight you for it.”

“There is only one of me, Scout.”

“Really?” He sounded most surprised, squinting straight at me. “Good, ‘cause two spies is too many. One spies is too many!”

I shook my head, wondering why I was still here and listening to the boy’s drunken foolery.

Quietness surprisingly settled, Scout laying his head on my lap and sulking. Everything he had done today had been entirely idiotic, but yet I still could not find the will to berate him any further than I already had. With the way he was, I doubt he would even remember anything I told him, let alone my visit here.

My sight went on his sulking face again.

“…But to answer your question,” I began.

“I had a question?”

“ _To answer your question_ … I suppose I do enjoy your company.”

“Ha!” Scout suddenly pointed rudely at my face, so much so that his finger was poking into my cheek. “Now ya gotta tell me why, that’s the rules.”

“Do I now?” I tried saying through his inane poking. His hand dropped down, and he shrugged, unsure on the answer himself.

“I dunno… I’d like it if you told me or somthin’, I guess,” he admitted. Even through his drunken state he seemed most curious on an answer. Though, the answer itself was not an easy one to explain.

So, I lied, “You remind me of myself.” I stopped for the moment, seeing how the boy would react. Surprisingly, he held quiet, waiting for me to continue. And so I did, hamming myself up, “And by that I mean my younger self– never would I think you and I are _similar_ in any way.” That got me laughing, both in my own pretending and the terrible irony of what I just said.

I continued on with my fabricated tale, “Even I was once a foolhardy young man, filled with so much active spirit and energy, willing to jump right into action without a second thought. Obviously, overtime, I grew to understand my juvenile mistakes and how to accept them.”

_Liar._

My subconscious had barged into my thoughts most suddenly, causing me to stop. When my sight went on the boy again, he just tilted his head, still being patient and awaiting for more.

My snark had all but left, and I began talking more sincerely and quiet, “Though, I will admit, accepting that you may be wrong is not an easy task, nor is it easy to take responsibility for your own actions. Even I have faltered from time to time, and every day I regret the actions I have failed to overcome.” I paused, struggling to think on what to say next. “…Perhaps that was my intent all along, and why I was so worried to see you fail at the most basic of things.” Another pause– I was not even sure if I was truly lying anymore.

Too much time had passed since I last spoke, again unable to think on what to say. For once, I foolishly let my mouth do the talking and said, “I did not want you to become like me… You are better to become anything like me, Scout.”

Scout still held silent, taking in my deceitful lying as the truth. He then smiled so happily and chuckled, “I’m sorry, but you totally lost me. Can you repeat, like, everythin’?”

I just stared in disbelief. But soon I sighed, not so much in annoyance, but with how foolishly I let myself be so overdramatic on a simple lie. Though, I should not have any fear to lie to begin with, but I do. If our situation had not come to such a point, I may have been more willing to speak the truth. Non, such a possibility had been taken.

_Coward._

Cowardliness is not enough to explain everything I have done wrong.

“Spy, you’re daydreamin’ again,” Scout moaned, once again poking his finger into my cheek. His pestering did pull me out of my haze, looking down at his drunken smile.

…He still does not know, so there is no reason to succumb to my own self-wallowing. The boy is in need of comfort as much as I am, and I wish to focus on him more than myself.

I faked another smile, telling another lie, “I will give you the short answer; your idiocy amuses me greatly.”

“Dick!” He whined back, lazily smacking the back of his hand on my chest. “You totally mentioned more stuff than that!” He then swung his arms forward and around my neck, using his weight to pull me down closer. “Whateve’– Wanna hear my answer now?”

“Your answer on?” I questioned with an eyebrow raise.

“Why I like spendin’ time with you, dummy,” he tried saying as quietly as he could this time. “OK? OK? You listenin’?”

I nodded, “Yes, I am listening.”

“You sure?”

Another chuckle as I nodded again, “Yes, I am sure.”

He nodded back, preparing himself by taking a deep breath. Once ready, he moved his head closer to my ear and whispered, “Because you’re _super freakin’ awesome_.”

“Oh? Really now?”

“Really!” He suddenly yelled next, causing me to irk my head away and hiss out in pain. Scout landed back on my lap with a hearty laugh and continued on, “You’re super, _super_ freakin’ awesome, Spy! Like… I always thought you were tryin’ _waaay_ too hard with the whole git up and look and baguette accent and shit. Like, like, you were tryin’ to hide who you were around everyone.”

“Nn… Boy, I _am_ a Spy,” I grunted, rubbing at my ear.

“Yeah, yeah, but…” Again he paused, really trying to think before giving up with a scuff. “You know– You know what I mean!”

I shook my head, dare asking the intoxicated simpleton, “I am afraid I do not.”

“I’m just sayin’ you’re not an asshole. Or, at least a bad asshole, yeah? ‘Cause you’re still kinda an asshole– but in a good way! Even if all assholes are full of _shit_. _Heheh_ …”

While all he said was mere drunken nonsense, a part of me sincerely believed Scout cared in some way. Such recognition was undeserved.

“I… greatly appreciate it, monsieur Scout.”

Scout only hummed back, scrooching up like a ball and snuggling his head deeper into my slacks.

“Scout?”

“Lemme just sleep here a bit...” He mumbled next, eyes already closed.

And just like that, Scout had passed out on my lap, sleeping away. There was not much I could do but watch as he slept, listening to him quietly snore away, looking the most content I have ever seen him. I laid my hand in his unkempt hair, gently running my gloved fingers through. It truly was a mess, not brushed since morning and already greasing up with sweat.

“… _It will start to get long if you don’t take care of yourself_ ,” I murmured to myself, still brushing my fingers through his hair. A small chuckle as I carelessly slipped next, “ _Your mother would truly have such a fit if she ever saw you like this, Jere––_ “

A sudden knock echoed on Scout’s door, making my shoulders jitter up in surprise. The boy rose off me with such speed, half-drowsy and grumbly.

“Who’s knockin’ on my door now?” Scout whined, stumbling to his feet, already proceeding towards the door. I swiftly stood the same, grabbing at his shoulder and pulling him back. “Hey!” he began complaining far louder than needed be. “What’s your deal, Sp––?”

“ _Shush!_ ” I hushed over, clasping a hand over his mouth. _“I am not here_.”

Scout thought for a long moment before nodding, giving a thumb over as a way to say he understood– _hopefully_ he understood. My hand moved off his mouth and went on my watch, clicking the button to cloak, my appearance now invisible for only the trained eye to notice. I then hurried away from the boy, hidden away in a corner but still able to see the door from where I stood.

Once the knocking began again, Scout hurried towards his door and swung it wide open. To my honest surprise, the person on the other side was the Bushman of all people. The man’s shoulders jumped in slight fright, most likely not expecting the door to open so quickly, having to fix his hat straight from the kick-back the door created.

The boy slurred aloud, “Whadd’ya want?!”

“Err…” Sniper stumbled, quite in shock to find Scout in such a state.

“ _Heeey_! Snipey,” Scout oh so happily greeted next– not quite the right reaction to have, considering everything that had happened. He then pointed at his bandaged face and humored over, “Come back to whack the other side?”

Sniper had to take a moment to even understand what he just knocked upon, going so far as to take his glasses off and wipe at his tired eyes. “Mate, yah a’right?” He asked, sounding quite worried.

“ _Fan-fuckin’-tastic_!”

Sniper shook his head, fitting his glasses back on his face. “Piss,” he swore. “Don’t tell me yah were drinkin’ yerself to death now?”

“No, no, only one, two, er… two.” Scout began counting and recounting his fingers, seeming unable to count higher than the number two.

“Maybe I should come back,” Sniper said, looking ready to take his leave. Scout– the imbecilic drunk that he was– did not wish to see the man go. He quickly grabbed at Sniper’s arm, pulling him inside the room.

“No, no, no, stay a while!” The boy whined, able to pull the man half-way through his door. “I don’t get many visitors!”

Sniper seemed far too passive in fighting back, begrudgingly letting the boy bring him inside. Scout brought the man over towards his bed, patting at the edge, issuing for Sniper to sit down and relax.

“Let’s see,” Scout said, looking around the room. “I so had an extra bottle somewhere.”

“Naw, I ain’t in the mood for drinkin’,” Sniper refused as he finally sat down.

“ _Huuuh_?” Scout gawked. “What’cha even come knockin’ for if ya ain’t in the mood for drinkin’?” He then raised his fists in the air, rolling them over towards Sniper. “Oh, so you do wanna go again, huh?”

Sniper waved a hand and replied, “Naw, naw, not that either.”

“Then why did you come knockin’ on my door?” For once, the boy asked an honest question, for even I did not understand the Bushman’s sudden appearance here.

“Mate, I doubt yer gonna remember even if I told yah,” Sniper seemed hesitant to answer, possibly believing any attempt in conversation would lead nowhere. Though, if that were true, the fool would have not let the boy easily pull him inside this filthy place to begin with.

“I ain’t drunk!” The drunken fool insisted. “I’m listenin’, Snipey, I’m listenin’!”

Sniper fell silent, fiddling with his hat before sighing aloud.

“Suppose I wanted to apologize,” he openly admitted. “I really wasn’t all too happy with what yah did, but yah didn’t need me roughin’ yah up like that.” For the moment he stopped, again seeming hesitant on his next say. “I may have… thought it to be a bit personal.”

Such a sudden and curious truth grabbed my interest– I have binged through the man’s personal information before, but I am not quite sure what he was implying by saying Scout’s action felt _personal_ to him.

“Naw, naw,” Sniper then waved aside his previous statement. “Forget I said that part– All I just wanted to tell ya was that I was sorry.”

Scout said nothing, staring down at Sniper with far too much focus. He suddenly hunched forward, his face coming quite uncomfortably close that Sniper had to back away a bit. The boy then reached out and grabbed at the man’s face, smooshing and stretching it about like playdoh.

“I dunno,” the boy tilted his head, not seeming to buy the bushman’s sudden apology. “The _real_ Snipey I knew was a quiet but grumpy kinda guy. You’re actin’ neither quiet nor grumpy right now.”

“Quit it!” Sniper yelled, exposing his sharp teeth over in annoyance. He smacked away at the boy’s hands and got up, his taller height casting a shadow over Scout.

Scout pointed at the man, exposing a most gleeful smile and laugh, “Ah, there’s the grumpy side!”

“Piss,” Sniper swore again. “This ain’t workin’– let me come back once yah get a bit sober.” The man moved around Scout, heading his way out.

“ _Nooo,_ Snipey,” Scout whined, throwing himself at Sniper’s back, hugging his arms around the man’s waist and stopping him in place. “I’m listenin’, I’m listenin’!”

“Mate, c’mon– I am gonna whack yah again if yah keep pullin’!” Sniper tried to threaten over with little avail, barely doing much to struggle out of Scout’s hold.

_Merde, these idiots._

My own annoyance got the better of me, scuffing much louder than needed be. Quickly, I placed my hand on my mouth, realizing my own foolish action before it was too late.

Sniper whipped his head back with such great speed, his cold killer’s glare exposed for me to witness. The battling had truly condition the man in such a terrible way, only now able to pull Scout off him with a hefty shove. He started smacking at one side of his hip to the next, trying to find a knife that was not even there. It was only when he turned around did he realize he was not on the battlefield, nor that there was an enemy behind him. All that was behind him was a wall, my being standing just a few feet away from his sight. Even if he had yet to notice me, I held as still as I could, not wishing to alert my presence through my slight static alone.

Thankfully, the man finally calmed, realizing how paranoid he was being– far was his own paranoia a liar, for I was indeed right behind him.

“ _Baguette attack_!” Scout suddenly cried out in quite a horrible French accent, crashing into Sniper, the weight of his being toppling on top of the man and flattening him on the bed, the wind of the impact making his hat fall off. Sniper puffed his face out from the landing, looking back at the boy with a glare. The dopey look Scout exposed though made Sniper choke up a throaty laugh, the man having to hide his face back into the cover as to not expose his silly expression over.

“Yer really are a brat,” Sniper sighed as he brought his face back into view, still seeming to struggle from smiling. He grabbed at his hat and pushed himself up, the boy still hanging onto his back. “A’right, git before yah hurt yerself, _Frenchboy_.”

Scout pouted, but obliged, jumping off Sniper and falling back on his bed with a tired moan. I thought that would finally be the cue for Sniper to leave, but he instead started looking around the room. Steadily I held my ground, the hand still on my mouth making me breathe slowly through my nose.

Sniper turned his head my way, and I froze up horribly. A surge of tremendous fear made my heart race, the fear of what would befall me if I happened to be spotted in such a place. But when the man started walking his way over, he just walked passed my being entirely.

I watched as Sniper made his way to where a small mini-fridge sat, hidden away in a corner that I had yet to notice– how thankful I am that the man noticed that and not I. He did a quick search through the fridge, happy to find what he was looking for– an unopened bottle of water.

Again he passed by me, heading to where the boy laid. Scout noticed the drink, sitting up to look at it better.

“Where’d you get that?” The boy questioned with a point.

“In yer mini-fridge––“

“Holy crap I have a mini-fridge?!” Scout gasped, truly astounded at such information. “That’s so awesome!”

“We all have one,” the Bushman reminded.

Scout just shrugged before taking the water bottle, but embarrassedly struggling with the cap. He gave up with a grunt, holding it out for Sniper to take care of. The man shook his head, snapping the cap off with ease and handing it back for the boy to drink. With that done, Sniper _finally_ decided to take his leave, heading his way out.

“Get plenty of water, squirt,” the Bushman called back with a tip to his hat. Scout waved, continuing to suck down on the water, his voice vibrating bubbles through the bottle. And like that, the man was gone, leaving me and the boy alone together again.

I waited for another moment before finally snapping my device off, appearing visible once more. My sight went on the boy just drowning himself in the bottle, all the contents within already gone. He made a loud popping noise as he finished satisfying his thirst, licking around his lips of any water that happened to drip down his chin.

“Okay!” Scout began shouting, truly forgetting about his in-door voice. “Snipey’s gone now, Sp––!“

I rushed over, once again clasping my hand over his mouth as to make him shut up.

“Keep your voice down,” I seethed through my teeth, truly at the end of his drunken shenanigans. My head turned to the door, worried that the Bushman, let alone anyone else heard. My focus soon became distracted, suddenly feeling something slimily wet at my glove. I looked back on Scout, watching as he slipped his tongue between my fingers.

“Shomthin’ like thwis, rhight?” The boy muffled through my hand, curling his tongue around a finger. “When yov didsh the wholse _fihger-suckin’-lichkin’-thinhg_.” He wrapped his tongue from one finger to the next, drenching my hand further with his saliva. I said nothing as he licked my hand down, truly memorized at the sight. Rarely have I been caught red-faced on something so… shameful.

“Scout, please stop that already,” my simple request sounded more like an honest plea.

Scout did pull back, saliva following after and dripping down his chin. He exposed the cheekiest grin on his face and said, “Now you’re all red in the face.”

“You are an utter embarrassment!” I squawked– _mon dieu, I squawked_.

“So I am embarrassing you?” Scout continued to tease– _Jeremy_ was teasing _me_ , how ridiculous! To be caught off-guard by a drunk who does not even know what he is doing. I must be crazed by my own tiredness and stress, that or the little amount of alcohol streaming in my system is finally taking effect.

 _Jeremy_ proceeded to lick upon my fingers again, going so far as to swallow the tip of my ring finger, moving down until he reached the ball of my knuckle. He choked up a moan, but did not stop, still sucking away. A shudder of air spewed up my throat, not even attempting to stop the boy on his ill-thought action.

_Wrong, this is wrong– he cannot even properly think!_

_Jeremy_ soon pulled back, big glops of saliva drenching from his lips, down my hand and dirtying to my cuff. His tired looked peered through me, making my body tremble with a terrible warming sensation.

“Hey,” _Jeremy_ spoke, but his words came out sounding most slow. “Lemme suck your cock.”

“Pardon– Pardon?” I struggled to speak, my own heavy breathing getting in the way.

“You always do all this sexy stuff for me and crap,” he explained. “So… I dunno, let’me suck your cock or somthin’ back?”

“I… would prefer if you did not,” I quietly declined, trying to pull my hand away. Jeremy held a good hold on it, gripping tighter.

“Why not?”

I wished to argue back, explain how utterly incapable he was in his drunken state. But when I saw that look of sudden dejection on his face, I could not find the courage to speak any further.

Silence overcame the room, neither one of us saying nor doing anything.

“…OK, OK,” _Jeremy_ was the first to speak, trying to sound serious. “Maybe– Maybe I ain’t all there or whateve’– just forget about that.” He paused, the hold of his hand squeezing around mine even tighter. “Really, I kinda wanted to do something back to you. Just, ya know, I’ve just been a pussy about it because that shit is... I dunno, it’s weird and…”

 _Jeremy_ suddenly stood off the bed and stepped closer, his face just mere inches away from mine. I stood frozen with a widen stare, caught in quite a horrible state of shock. The red of his already reddish face grew brighter. He took a deep breath.

And finally, he unashamedly said aloud, “But even if it’s weird, I still wanna suck your cock, Spy!”

The boy is truly out of his mind– his outrageous outburst alone was certain enough. I would be a complete irresponsible fool to act any further upon _Jeremy_! Yes… only a _fool_.

My free hand reached forward, resting on the boy’s bandaged cheek, gently caressing a thumb through the dirtied cloth. _Jeremy_ sunk into my touch, the look of sadness he held now replaced with a warm smile.

…But I am not just a mere _fool_ , not even close.

"So be it, Monsieur Scout."


	14. Name

Funny, I feel as if _Jeremy_ did little to persuade me on such a scandalous agreement.

Now, I was the one who sat on his bed, my slacks pulled down and resting around my ankles. The briefs I wore underneath were only pulled back slightly in the front, exposing myself in the open. _Jeremy_ sat in front of me, just staring down at my untouched flaccid cock. His sight soon went on mine, looking most disappointed.

He pointed at my cock and complained, “It’s all limply.”

“I cannot become hard on command, monsieur Scout,” I rebutted back with a sigh.

Regret was already starting to sink in, his idiocy ruining the already awkward mood quite terribly. It was expected– far is _Jeremy’s_ own knowledge in romance and seduction on par of my own. A common occurrence I have faced with my many lovers throughout the years, but one such as this… merde, I do not even know anymore.

_Jeremy_ grabbed onto my privates without much a warning or hesitation. I shuddered, feeling the chillness from his palms– most likely prior from the water bottle he held not long before.

“Now I never sucked dick,” _Jeremy_ happily proclaimed. “But I just know that I’m the best damn dick-sucker you’ll ever encounter.”

“I am in _awe_ ,” I grunted, really feeling the tight grip. “I would greatly prefer a gentler approach though, if you please.” My complaining was thankfully answered as he loosened his grip some.

_Jeremy_ began preparing with a loud heave. He opened his mouth quite wide, his teeth eerily presenting themselves. Far be it my own imagination making me nervous, but both _Jeremy’s_ drunken state and his lack of sexual knowledge really made my skin quiver up in goosebumps.

“Arrêté,” I hurried my say, my hand slamming quite hard on his forehead, preventing him from moving any further.

“Whast nohw?” He whined, mouth still agape.

“I would feel more… _comfortable_ if you did not swallow,” my quiet response got _Jeremy_ chuckling, exposing quite a cheeky smile now.

“Afraid I’m gonna bite it off?” He teased with a quick bite in the air. I only exposed a sour look back, which in turn got _Jeremy_ laughing again. “Alright, I’ll just use my hands then if ya don’t trust me enough.”

“Spare me the patronizing,” I complained, feeling far too stressed now to handle any more of his _wit_.

_Jeremy_ just shrugged with a smile, bringing his sight back on my cock again. Without wasting anymore time, he finally started jerking me off. He did not start slow, his hands moving in a quick motion as they slid all the way to my tip before going back down the length.

I had no clue how _Jeremy_ pleasured himself, but what he was doing so far only told me how rough he tended to be.

“Not so fast, monsieur Scout,” I pleaded, already feeling a burning sensation beat on my cock. _Jeremy_ pouted up at me, but did slow down. While the burning subsided, the pleasure below was quite underwhelming and or even lacking at times. I feared that my own enthusiasm was just not there, either from the stress or due to my own _personal_ struggle.

I could tell by _Jeremy’s_ annoyance that he was disappointed with how unenthusiastic I was being, not even so much as panting or humming from his jerking. A sudden idea seemed to click in his head as he easily exposed a cheeky grin. He removed one hand off my length, moving it lower and clenching a firm hold onto my balls. A surge of prickling pleasure and pain shot through my entire body, my hands having to grip hard into the mattress as to keep still.

“Think I recall you liked this, right?” _Jeremy_ said, doing another squeeze. My lips bit together, trying not to shout louder than necessary.

How amusing that _this_ particular action was the one major weakness I held. Perhaps the memories of it happening the first time are making me react from its familiarity, yearning to feel hard again.

_Hard._

_Oh mon dieu, I just wish to feel hard._

_Jeremy_ chuckled, “You’re making those faces again, Spy– freakin’ love it!”

My ecstasy was terribly overwhelming my most basic thinking, only wishing to feel more of his rough pleasuring and touch.

I quirked a smile and breathily laughed back, “ _Haah_ … What face would that be?”

“Like, ya know, the hot lookin’ face,” _Jeremy_ tried to explain, unsure on the answer himself. His cluelessness was so adorable– _Jeremy_ is just so adorable.

_Jeremy_ was able to stimulate my balls whilst jerking my length in surprising succession. Quiet moans spilled through my lips the more he worked down, my noises embarrassingly squeaking up louder whenever he hit a more sensitive nerve.

“Mn––!” Another squeak as my hand clasped my mouth, eyes squeezing tightly shut. My reaction got Jeremy chuckling again, wishing to further show his skill by smooshing his lips on my tip, slobbering his spit all over. His lazily made kisses went to licking next, wetting the top and sides of my cock’s head. He blenched slightly at the taste, but continued suckling and kissing none the less.

My eyes slowly opened wider, feeling utter joy beat in my chest as I witnessed my cock finally becoming hard.

“See,” Jeremy spoke up, catching my attention. “Told yah I was the best damn _dick-sucker-licker-jerker_ around!” He seemed so happy with such knowledge– if I was petty enough to criticize, I would say his work to be below average at best. Far was his _skill_ the only thing that helped me become hard…

“I will… inform the others,” I breathily joked back, my panting making it difficult to speak properly. Even in his drunken state, that got the boy thinking of the implications. Such a distraction slowed his hand, the pleasure slowly dying down. “Me–Merely a jest,” I was quick to admit, not wishing to lose the wonderful sensation so soon.

_Jeremy_ noticed my spluttering– _ah_ , how careless of me to expose myself. He did not hurry, continuing his slow jerking as he displayed quite possibly the cheekiest grin over– how alcohol can make the boy so confident.

“Mo-Monsieur Scout,” my voice stammered still, truly unable to keep calm.

“ _Yeees~_?” _Jeremy_ whistled.

I swallowed, unashamedly begging next, “Please… Please move your hand faster.”

Instead of doing what I asked, he stopped completely, making me heave out a breathy moan in disappointment.

“Say that again,” he demanded, still smiling.

I obliged as nicely as I could, “Please move your hand faster, Monsieur Scout.”

“Now in French.”

“Bouge juste imbécile,” my annoyance slipped through, the boy thankfully not realizing.

His amusement seemed satisfied now, finally continuing his fast jerking once more.

“First you’re all ‘sacré bleu, go slow!’ And now you’re all ‘non, non, go fast, merci!’” _Jeremy_ mocked back in quite a terrible French accent. My attention was only on my harden cock though, feeling the warmth below well up, the tingling of my nerves making my entire body squirm. My urge of coming was dangerously close, wishing to disperse everything I held within– _ahh_ , truly had it been far too long.

My hand snapped on my mouth again, my breathing becoming so frantic that my chest expanded far further than usual.

I tried to muffle a warning through my fingers, “At–Attendre–– _Ah_ ––!” But my words came too slow, finally coming, my essence spraying upon _Jeremy’s_ face. _Jeremy_ tried shielding himself with a hand up, but only when I was already half-way through my release. As wonderful as the feeling was, it ended far too soon, the pulsing of my dick stopping and going limp once more. My panting went on even as I finished, coughing in-between, feeling my throat clogged up with spit.

_How embarrassing… I have done this long enough as to not pop off so rudely._

Groaning and muttering echoed below, my sight going down on _Jeremy_. He was brushing a hand over his eye quite fiercely, trying to wipe away at something but having difficulty doing so.

I finally calmed down and asked, “ _Mn_ … Scout, are you well?”

“Got in my freakin’ eye!” _Jeremy_ whined, still rubbing at his eye.

“Come here… Scout, come here and let me help,” I tried asking politely before demanding next.

“It freakin’ stings!” Again he whined, trying to hide his face away now.

My hands moved forward, grabbing him by the cheeks and bringing him closer to check over the mess he was in. Splatters of my semen ran down his chin, between his eyes and dripping off the tip of his nose. The suppose liquid around his eye was minimal– _Jeremy_ most likely freaked out over having such unpleasantries splashing upon his face so suddenly.

I brushed a thumb near his eye, removing the small mess. Done, my focus went on the rest of his whitened face. The sight of his reddish flush beating on his cheeks, and his tired-like eyes squinting open to look at mine made my body tense up.

My own lust had truly taken control, already decided on my next course of action before even thinking. I pulled his face closer, beginning to lick away and clean off the rest of the semen.

“Whoa– Whoa, hey,” _Jeremy_ stammered terribly, doing nothing but watch me clean him. Far has this been the first time I tasted my own essence, but rarely do I clean another’s face in such a perverse way.

In my cleaning, my lips ended up brushing against his. And once again, my lust did a most foolish thing. My lips pressed harder against _Jeremy’s_ , parting them open slightly and slicking my tongue inside. _Jeremy’s_ eyes spring wide open, witnessing an even filthier act being condoned on him. He muffled a squeak, which brought me out of my euphoric haze for the moment, quickly backing my head away. The two of us gasped, staring at the other in horrid surprise.

_Oh non, I just did that, did I?_

“ _Hah_ ,” _Jeremy_ forced a laugh first. “Gross, did you just kiss me? That’s– That’s so gay…” His sentence began to stumble, and he swallowed aloud. His nervousness was exposing such a sweet smile, a rare sight that his _mother_ has most likely only witnessed...

Dread suddenly came upon me– it had not been the first time, nor will it be the last. Again, the loathsome realization of what I was doing, committing on a relationship that was breaking far more boundaries than it ever had before. Not one of age or gender, but an immoral offence no one else can repeat but _Jeremy_ alone.

_I just kissed my own son._

How ridiculous, believing that a kiss is far worse than having my own essence splattered all over his face. Merde… All I needed to do was forget about such information and see _Jeremy_ as my teammate and nothing more!

_Wait… Jeremy? mon Dieu, how long have I been calling him that?_

I shook away any more of those thoughts, quickly bringing Scout forward again and stealing his mouth, causing another surprised squeak to spew from him.

_Just forget about it! Forget about it!_

“ _Mmh_ … Freakin’ kissed by some old _creep_ ,” Scout muttered through our small breaks. The boy did not fight back, merely sinking into my kiss, his eyes lowering down before closing again.

My hand sat on his waist, slowly moving down until reaching his groin, cuffing it. His cock was already so hard even through his pants, becoming harder the more my touch lingered. Scout flinched up, gasping out of our kiss and staring down at my hand.

I chuckled, whispering close to his ear, “How can you say all that when you have gotten this hard?” My hand squeezed ever so lightly.

“Ah! _Ahh_ …” His own moaning spewed, the confidence he once held losing steam.

_I believe it is my turn to do the teasing._

“It would be rude of me to leave you unsatisfied after such a wonderful job,” I said, letting off his groin. Scout moaned out, his tired sight back on me. “Come, let us switch places.”

Scout slowly nodded, standing up. I stood the same, moving away as he sat down in my place. His legs spread wide, exposing his protruding bulge more noticeably. I smiled at the sight before sitting down in front of him, face in line to his groin.

My first action was to strip off the strap holding up his pants and underwear, slowly pulling them back, witnessing the tip of his cock poke out in excitement. It was not long before I pulled enough that his cock sprung forward in front of my face, stiff in the air and twitchy. My, I had never seen such excitement from Scout until now– such a greedy young man.

I licked my lips and moved my head forward, pecking a kiss on the tip before getting down to business. My fingers gently wrapped around his length, thumb pressed on the head and caressing it in circles. Scout was already shaking, his hands squeezed tightly into fists.

“ _Ohh man_ ,” he breathily sighed, sinking back a bit where he sat. His eyes tiredly stared down on me, watching ever so intently at my work.

Before I moved my hands, I began wetting his cock to lessen the slight chafing. First I pecked more kisses down his length, and then slowly my kisses lingered into suckling. My tongue ran back up, fingers following after, tickling the nerves of his harden cock, causing it to react with a sudden twitch. When his cock was wet enough, I started jerking him, but not so fast that he would accidently pop– I promised to suck him, and I am more than happy to do such that.

I did one last kiss on his tip before I popped off, a small string of saliva forming from his cock to my lips.

Scout whined, mouth slightly agape, “Spy– Spy, c’mon man…”

Another chuckle as I teased next, “Anymore impatience and I may have to leave you the way you are.” Scout did not retort back, still panting, awaiting for more. I held my smile, flicking a thumb at my lips. “You may push my head down if you wish,” I then told him. “I am skilled enough to take the entirety of your cock.”

Scout gulped, the intensity of his eyes widening and the flush on his face growing brighter.

“ _I’m so totally wasted_ ,” he muttered to himself, only now finding that his situation was a little hard to believe.

My hands rested on his thighs now, gently caressing them. I then opened my mouth wide enough to perk my lips around the head of his cock. And slowly, I moved further down, consuming half of his length. Scout heaved aloud, the edges of his mouth quivering franticly.

“Holy shit– Holy shit, Spy,” he sputtered out another moan.

I swallowed all the way down to his lightly hairy groin, letting my nose whiff against the sweaty strands. My face sat there for the moment, slowly moving up till I reached his tip again, teasing around the head in a quick slick.

Once more, I took everything Scout held in my mouth, keeping a steady motion as to not accidently choke. Low muffled moans spewed from me the more I worked him down, mixing with the slick sucking noises my lips made as I moved. Whines and moans continued to disperse from Scout as well, the new pleasures he was feeling truly overwhelming him.

_Ah, yes… I am the first to suck his cock. I have been the first for many things as of late_ …

A firm hand suddenly rested itself on top of my head, chipped nails digging into the thin cloth of my balaclava.

“ _Haah_ … This– This is freakin’ good, Spy,” Scout panted, slightly pushing my head down as I tried to raise it up again. I adjusted to the new pressure, taking a deep wheeze through my nose and quickly returning to pace.

My muffled cries grew louder, joining with his, excitement welling inside my chest the more Scout grew closer to his limit– for once I will forgive him for letting off so quickly.

Scout did slight bucking between my hurried movements, urging ever so closer to his climax. The pressure of his hand grew firmer, pushing me all the way down, my nose pressed in his groin again. I gargled some, but still continued my slight bobbing.

“ _Ah_ ––! Goin’––!”

Scout came with a stifled cry, the warmth of his semen filling my mouth and bubbling down my throat. My eyes held tightly, taking his essence and swallowing down as hard as I could. Another shudder or two before he was finally spent of all he could offer, settling down with a long breathy huff.

The pressure of his hand slid off my head, giving me freedom to move again. Carefully, I slurped off his dick, holding my mouth tightly shut as to not let his essence escape. Another swallow down, my mouth finally clear of all liquids, free to breathe again as I heave out and cough.

_Délicieux…_

Scout kept panting, “ _Haa_ … You– You really swallowed that crap? No way…” He seemed truly baffled at such an action, making me smile.

I raised closer to his face and teased, “Do you wish to have a taste?”

Scout unsurprisingly declined, “No, I’m good!” Rudely, he smacked a hand on my face, pushing me back down. That got me chuckling as I grabbed at his hand, bringing it down some, rubbing a thumb against the knuckle before pecking a kiss on his fingers.

“I am happy to see you so pleased, Monsieur Scout,” I quietly admitted, still holding my smile. Scout looked as he wanted to reply something snarky back, but nothing came to be. He slowly smiled the same, seeming a bit embarrassed but content in a way.

With the tension gone, everything felt as normal again– minus the drunken state he was still in and the horrid white mess drenched all over his face.

Firstly, I helped the boy’s clothes back together, making sure there were no embarrassing splotches anywhere. I did the same for myself, fixing my slacks and adjusting my suit a bit– clean or not, this will have to be washed most thoroughly. Finished with that, I stood, urging Scout to follow after as I pulled him to his feet.

“Come,” I began. “Your face is in dire need of some cleaning.”

Again, the boy just nodded, letting me take him by the hand as we headed over towards his washroom to clean up.

Once we were inside that filthy bathroom, I checked around, finding a washcloth hanging on his showerhead. I nicked it, bringing it over his sink and drenching a little warm water onto it before bringing it closer to the boy, rubbing the cloth through his face.

“Come’on, Spy,” Scout whined through my scrubbing. “I can wash my own face!”

“You will thank me later,” I said, making sure he kept in place as I cleaned him. Once all the semen had been dealt with, I hurried the rag into one of my pants pockets to clean for later. “Now brush your teeth,” I demanded next, pointing at the filthy toothbrush he had sitting in an uncleaned cup. “Less you wish to wake up with terrible morning breath.”

Scout groaned, but did as he was commanded, lazily drenching his toothbrush with toothpaste and scrubbing away. I left him to do his business, heading back into his room, truly realizing how filthy the place was– clothes and comics scattered carelessly about, trash and broken cans in the most unsanitary of places.

_Honestly, you were raised better._

My sight then went on the mess of his bed, seeing that the sheet was not even properly on anymore. It was truly an eyesore, having to hurry over and fix it up– though, the dreaded magazines that littered all over made me rethink about touching any part of his bed again. Even with my self-complaints, I snatched away the obscene filth and even his hat, bundling it all together, laying it on a table nearby and hurrying back to his bed to spread the sheet on properly.

“What are you doin’?” Scout’s questioned behind as I turned, finding him standing just a few feet away from me now, most confused.

“I just realized how much of a mess your bed was in,” I said, rubbing my hands clean of dust and grime. “So I cleaned it up for you.”

“…Didn’t have to go fixin’ my bed,” he muttered, embarrassment more profound now than before.

“Perhaps not. None the less, I did so anyway.”

I soon realized how unusually quiet the boy was being as he just stood there. I came closer to him, doing one last check over his face. His eyes were still held low, expression quite neutral and dull, the colorful flush on his face dying pale again.

“Are you tired, monsieur Scout?” I asked politely.

“…Maybe a little,” again he muttered, hand wiping at his eye once more.

I exposed a small gentle smile and told him, “Then perhaps you should rest. We have another game tomorrow, and we cannot let that terrible hang-over you will most likely have become even worse, oui?”

Scout only nodded this time, lazily making his way over to his bed and falling face first into his pillow. I walked over, grabbing at his blanket close by, laying it over his shoulder. His body curled up in the blanket, eyes already closed as he shook his head out from his pillow.

I thought best to take my leave, doing such. However, before I could even turn my back on him, Scout suddenly rose a little from the bed, nicking at the small end strap of my suit, keeping me from moving any further. I looked back, curious if he needed anything more.

“Yes, Scout?”

A slight pause.

As quietly as he could, Scout said over, “Thanks.”

“Thanks?” I repeated, caught off-guard with the praise.

“Just, ya know… Just thanks,” Scout tried to explain, but even he seemed confused on the answer himself.

I was quite unsure on how to reply– kindness does not come often to me, teammate or lover. What we did today was… it was truly inexcusable, and praise was the last thing I needed to be told. Still, I wished to reciprocate his words for the goodwill alone.

Carefully, I bended forward and pecked a small kiss in his hair.

“It was no trouble, monsieur Scout,” I whispered, slowly standing again.

Scout’s sweet smile exposed itself before it was ruined by his own yawning. His head fell back on the pillow, eyes closed again as he snugged himself closer together. I waited for only another second to see if he needed me for anything else, only now taking my leave as he started lightly snoring.

My first instinct was to snap at my watch, making sure I was invisible– being found out over my own carelessness would be quite a humiliating end.

I stopped in front of the door, sight looking back on…

on...

“… _Goodnight, Jeremy_ ,” I whispered to myself, snapping the light off first before finally taking my leave.


	15. Relationship

Night had begun later that day, but far was I ready to head to bed just yet. Again, that niggling worry I held once before was now pointed at the Bushman, my curiosity urging me to figure out why the man was acting so strangely for the past couple of weeks.

I slipped out from my room once the building quieted down, heading towards Medic’s office to poke through his things. For all the complaining the Doctor spewed, he did little when it came to proper locking and security– most likely for the best. My profession is a troublesome one to deal with as simple locks and alarms were mere child's play to me.

Like last time, I went through the motions, jimmying the lock with ease and heading towards the storage room further back. My pocket-sized flashlight beamed across the shelves, squeezing myself through the crowded area, trying to recall the one box that held all the mercenaries files. Lucky for me, it was in the same spot where I last found it.

I quietly chuckled, truly amused with how little _had_ changed.

_Doctor, complaining will get you nowhere._

For a quiet and lonely man the Bushman was, he had quite a fascinating story that came straight out from the boy’s own comic books. Found inside some mysterious device by an old couple in the middle of nowhere– perhaps he is the so called _man of super._ Silly distractions were not what I needed at the moment, skimming through his file to find anything out of the norm or strange. Minus the oddity of the man’s homeland alone, nothing seemed out of place.

But then I found it.

A questionable little… _allegation_ , one he most likely would be spending in prison right now if the company did not hire him.

It is truly a funny thing to say, for mercenaries are all hired guns in the end, and few are given the privilege to escape the law. Some are still escaping it to this day, taking whatever jobs promise them safety and shelter. This _allegation_ is no different than murder for some, and it could easily harm the man’s reputation if this piece of information were to ever spill to the wrong people. Far is Sniper the first to commit such deeds– I would even say there are far worse human scum than him. My opinion is not the law though, merely an opinion.

I snapped the folder shut and scuffed, quite disgusted holding the flimsy thing now.

_A very dark secret indeed, monsieur Mundy._

–

As always, the new day for battle began, Soldier _politely_ waking everyone up with his favorite ear-piercing trumpet throughout the halls. Perhaps I still had the Bushman on the mind, but I for once envied his campervan lifestyle.

I had just reached the respawn, my usual morning bud already in my mouth. Some of the men were already here– besides the Doctor, Heavy and Sniper. What truly surprised me was finding Scout– but he was in quite a… pathetic looking state. His still bandaged face was smooshed in the wood of the bench, body spread all over, arms and legs dangling on both sides. The hastily mess of his wrinkled clothes and hair only showed how little he cared for himself this morning.

“Kid looks like he’s done for the day,” Engineer suddenly remarked over, hefting out his little toolkit from his locker. I merely smiled at him, my focus quickly going back on Scout. I then began my walk over, soon standing in front of the tired fool, leaning in some to see if he was still alive and awake– he was, sadly.

My cigarette went between my fingers as I casually asked the boy, “How are you feeling, monsieur Scout?”

Scout turned his head to the side with a disgusted disgruntle. His face again smooshed into the wood, more of his grumbling and groaning vibrating through.

“Not well?” I answered for him.

Scout poked his face out once again, barely able to keep eye-contact on me as he squinted, the bright light in the respawn most likely making it hard for his vision to see clearly.

The boy began mumbling his complaints, “My face feels like it’s been hit by a train, my soul has been crushed into a million pieces, I got like the worse headache imaginable, and I’m just _sooo_ not in the mood to do anythin’ today.”

“At least you are keeping optimistic,” I told him, standing straight again, taking another suck on my bud.

“ _I wannnna dieee_ ,” again, his face went into the wood as he moaned aloud.

“You will do plenty of that once you are out on the field,” I uncaringly remarked back.

Our conversation halted, the sounds of the other men chattering amongst each other and or loading their weapons, keeping our ears busy of noise. I eyed around, wondering if anyone was paying attention. Once I knew the coast was clear, I sat down next to Scout, pretending that I was just taking a smoke break if someone happened to notice us together.

I committed on another suck before quietly asking the boy, “I do not suppose you can recall what happened yesterday?”

“Other than how hard I fucked myself up?” The idiot spoke louder than needed, making my head jerk over, exposing my slight annoyance. He seemed to have taken the hint quite quickly, eyes casually rolling around the room and thinking. “…Maybe a little,” he finally spoke again, a little quieter.

“I deeply apologize if I went too far,” my concern was not even subtle, sounding deeply disappointed.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Scout chirped up, finally finding the energy to sit straight, hands on the bench to hold steady. “Won’t let it bother me if it doesn’t bother you, yeah?”

It may be easy for Scout to act so carefree on such juvenile actions, but far am I someone who can accept my more irresponsible side. I tried to coax my silence with my bud, taking longer and deeper sucks. The boy easily saw through me though, frowning slightly for only a moment before smiling again.

“Yo, Pyro!” Scout suddenly called over at Pyro, making the man turn away from his locker, tilting his head and pointing at himself in wonder. “Put a smile on fancy-pant’s face, will ya?” He thumbed at me.

Pyro nodded gleefully, hurrying over to do such that.

My cigarette fumbled from my mouth to my hand, trying to quickly decline, “Non, non, you do not have to–– _Mrmf_!?”

It was far too late, Pyro already thrusting his hands forward, both thumbs hooking onto the ends of my mouth and pulling them apart. Burnt leather rubbed at my taste buds– how vulgar! My fluster and panic garnered the attention from the others, sparking laughter throughout the room.

“ _Arrête ça!_ ” I spitted my annoyance, smacking away the hands, hurrying my bud in my mouth to coat the awful leathery taste. Pyro seemed quite upset, muffling all sadly before sulking back to his locker– far am I going to apologize over something so purposeful.

I rubbed at my sore cheekbones, frowning at the laughing fool sitting next to me. His laughter died some, and he expressed quite a cheery smile.

“Hey, lighten up, Spy. You’re too old to be stressin’ over dumb crap all the time,” Scout said, almost consoling in a way– but perhaps that was my imagination. Still, I perked a small smile back, quite thankful for his worry.

The doors of the respawn opened again, the room suddenly quieting down. I turned my head about to see what the issue was, finding that the Bushman had finally appeared. Everyone eyed at the man before looking away, fiddling with their weapons and fixing their gear in place as to look distracted. Sniper obviously noticed the sudden tenseness in the room, frowning slightly. He picked his head up, noticing the boy and I further ahead.

Sniper took a deep breath, seeming as he wanted to come over and converse with us. Before he could do such that, Soldier stood in his way, arms folded, glaring at Sniper through his helmet. The tenseness of the room halted, everyone waiting to see if the other would take action.

The first to move was surprisingly Sniper, but his action next did not even involve Soldier or anyone else. He held quiet, tipping his hat down, hurrying the other way and towards his locker to get what he needed. Once he got everything, he slammed his locker shut, again passing by everyone as he went to hide in the furthest part of the gateway to stand alone.

Demoman broke the lingering silence first, sighing aloud, “Ey, don’t like all this tension.” The man was generally in a sad state, seeming hesitant to follow or join with Sniper.

Engineer came over to where Soldier still stood, the harden man acting as he was one of the Queen’s guard, his form in a stiff posture and expression neutral.

“I know yer a stubborn one, Soldier-boy,” Engineer tried reasoning over. “But Stretch ain’t lookin’ like he wants to start any more fights.”

“Will see,” Soldier merely grumbled, finally making his leave back to his locker to hull up his rocket launcher on his shoulder. He then went on his way the same, heading towards the closest gate, waiting for the battle to begin.

Engineer sighed aloud as well, a hand going through his hardhat to scratch at his bald head. His goggled sight then went to us, stepping closer.

“How yah holdin’, boy?” Engineer asked, sounding most sincere.

“Me? I’m awesome as always!” Scout proclaimed, hopping onto his feet, looking more renewed and ready for battle. “Yeah, so what if longlegs got a good one on me– totally fuckin’ deserved it, would’ve done the same.” He pointed at his bandaged face as if it was a mark of honor.

“Really now?” Engineer said in quite a surprise, not believing that the boy would admit so easily on his mistake. “Well, yah might have to say that to him as well. Stretch really ain’t all too proactive when it comes to talkin’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scout repeated, waving off the issue. “I’ll just run pass him or somthin’ when he’s out scopin’ heads and shout over, ‘Nice throwin’ arm! We should totally play catch some time!’”

The cheerfulness of the boy seemed to have calmed Engineer’s worry, nodding and smiling, heading back to his locker to finish up his packing.

Scout then eyed at me again, still holding his smile.

“Better get ready, _fancy-pants_ ,” he teased the little nickname over as he gave me the finger guns. He soon left me on the bench, heading towards his locker, finally preparing himself for today’s battle.

While it was nice to see him more energetic and carefree, I could not help but feel as he was trying to avoid the situation all together– that or he held some remembrance of Sniper’s apology from yesterday, finding no need for anymore fighting. Whatever the case, I wished to have my own _talk_ with the Bushman before the boy– or even Sniper himself– foolishly made the first move.

–

Once I had the opportunity, I searched the area, looking for the Bushman’s nesting whereabouts. The sounds of his rifle shots helped me towards his location, finding him hidden inside an old wooden building, further away from the more dangerous parts of the map. Empty jars and bullet shells scattered about the floor, a mess of fresh blood splats and shredded cloth telling me he just had a recent encounter with my rival not so long ago. Creeping around the mess, I finally spotted Sniper near a broken window, sitting on a crate, his rifle pointing forward, focused deeply in his scope.

I acted quite hastily, carelessly walking up and casually calling out, “Bushman––“

Sniper whirled out in his scope in quite a speed, my being unable to register the movement and dodge in time. He roughly grabbed at my throat, fingers digging so deep that his palm pressed right into the bone. He forced me back against the wall, his blooded knife inching closer to my face, looking ready to begin his unlicensed surgical treatment.

“Monsieur, it is I!”

Sniper thankfully stopped, the cat-eye glare blinking back to normal. He looked me down, quite confused in why my body was not buzzing in static or changing in color, even going so far as to lightly tap the blunt side of his weapon on my cheek to make sure. Once he realized it was truly me and not the enemy, his brows furrowed, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. Sniper carelessly dropped me to my feet, not even bothering to apologize as he hurried back to his little spot with a loud thud.

“ _Ahem_ … At least your checking skills have not faltered,” I remarked with a cough, adjusting my tie and collar. “Terribly sorry for popping up unannounced, I merely came to make some small talk.”

No response, the Bushman already rearranged in the same position I found him before, focused ever so deeply in his scope.

Such obvious ignoring made me smile, continuing my talking over, “You do not have to speak if you do not wish to.”

I sat myself on another box close by, one leg over the other, watching the hectic view of the battlefield through the cracked window. However long this little encounter would be, I wished to be comfortable as I waited. So, I went through my pocket, snapping a new cigarette from my case, setting the newly lit bud in my mouth.

“Cigarette?” I politely offered, holding my case out.

Sniper only responded by firing a shot suddenly, muttering swears under his breath as he fumbled looking for another bullet. His sight only met mine for a second, turning away at my offer, finally getting back to work once he reloaded his gun and escaped into his scope again. The man may truly act like he is focused on his work, but my presence is distracting him quite terribly.

My smile held, snapping my case closed, snugging it back into my coat again.

“ _Bon travail mon ami_! Nice shot,” I praised most sarcastically.

The twitch he made with his mouth showed enough of his irritation, easily being fazed by my sarcastic mockery.

“Ah! Pardon me,” again, I phoned in another apology. “But I am not here to berate you on your abilities.”

And again, the man held silent.

Our one-sided conversation was indeed going to be a long one.

I relaxed myself in, taking a long drag to my bud and rambled aloud, “I say, your little outburst from yesterday was quite a show– did you have a terrible run in by the RED Scout? They can be just as annoying to deal with, perhaps even more than a Spy… Such violence is nothing out of the ordinary for me to witness– your _kind_ have the tendency to act out most violently, even if the others do not get to see it much… Speaking of the others, their quiet stares indicated you have yet to make amends with the boy, oui? You surely have yet to make amends with Soldier– I wish you the best of luck in dealing with him. Scout, on the other hand, did act terribly out of line– a gentleman should never treat a lady so rudely! But far is Scout a gentleman of any kind...”

Finally, I stopped, not even having the energy to suck on my bud as I took a long breath– mon dieu, how the boy can ever keep up with all that talking…

And still, even throughout my rambling, Sniper held quiet.

My mockery may be overplayed at this point, but I hold onto Engineer’s statement from before to heart. Sniper is far from proactive when it came to initiating a simple conversation. He is a man who listens more than he speaks, and while he may not act like he is paying attention, he is mentally writing down every single word I say to him.

Still, even I can grow bored with talking to myself.

I decided to just get to the heart of the issue, being quite forward and blurting next, “What _relationship_ did you hope to have with monsieur Scout?”

The Bushman’s trigger finger snapped suddenly, his aim faltering quite terribly as his gun almost left his hands. His shades had become slightly crooked due to his own panic, not so much caring to fix them as he glared over, most angry.

“Pardon,” I tried to speak, hiding my chuckling with my knuckle. “Did I ruin your shot _again_?”

Sniper picked his rifle straight up, holding it carelessly in one hand and roughly setting it down by its butt pad. He finally fixed the tilt of his shades, eyes straight on me now.

And finally, the man spoke in his usual low and rough tone, “What’cha want, Spook?”

“Was there something off-putting in my question?”

“What’cha want, _Spook_?” He repeated, more coldly.

His irritation amused me, continuing to chatter oh so carefree, “Absolutely nothing, Monsieur Sniper! Oh mon, are we not allowed to make conversation due to our clashing professions?”

“ _Conversation_ , huh?” He spitted. “Well, yer _kind_ seem to only value another bloke based on how well they git yer willy wet.”

I gasped, most appalled on such a _scandalous_ allegation. My hand went on my chest as I sadly rebutted back, “Do I really come off like that to you?”

Sniper scuffed, quite unfazed with how dramatic I was being, “What I’m sayin’ is that yah assume shit that shouldn’t be there.”

My smile returned, and I continued speaking more happily, “Never did I mean to imply such travesty, monsieur Sniper.”

Sniper ended up going quiet again, but only because he was thinking deeply this time.

“…Look,” Sniper sighed, his anger settled some. “If yer askin’ if I’m feelin’ bad for what I did, I am. I’m feelin’ really bad for sluggin’ the kid like that.”

His careless admission was quite an interesting discovery, so much so it almost came off as a lie. But Sniper was exposing quite a rare look he probably did not even realize, one of deep disappointment and regret. Whether it was due to his professionalism putting him down or just generally feeling bad, it was hard to say.

Whatever the case, I still had to play upon the situation as to not cause suspicion. So, I take my bud from my mouth, clasping a hand over it. And with one big breath I began embarrassedly snorting aloud, not even trying to play to my usual façade of calm and collectiveness.

“Pa– Pardon me!” I phoned in more of my apologizing through another snort. “But this is _Scout_ we are referring to here, correct? By all means, the boy requires more than a punch in the face every now and then.”

“Didn’t have to be from me…” Sniper’s stare was away now, expression still downhearted.

“Did someone puppeteer you to do such an act?” I mocked back, wagging my fingers in the air.

“Don’t need yer snark, Spook.” While his voice came off as his usually low growly tone, his expression still stayed the same.

In our pause, I noticed that the Bushman was looking at my cigarette, most likely wishing for one of his own. Just once, I played nice– but only because the man had been so strangely forward with me. Reaching through my pocket again, I snapped my case open, holding it out for him. He looked at the case, letting out another sigh and taking a bud for his own.

“My, you are quite forward in giving me such information,” I said, bringing my lighter over next, letting the man light his bud in his mouth.

Sniper blew out some smoke, speaking with the cigarette still in his mouth, “Eh, I’ve always been a pretty piss poor liar. And with yah sneaky bastards, it’s a headache and a half dealin’ with yer mind games.”

I merely chuckled back, snapping my case shut, proceeding to suck away at my own bud again.

There was another pause, the two of us taking a smoke break, watching the battle from afar.

“Kid needs a friend though,” Sniper suddenly blurted, catching me by surprise. “Me and the other blokes were a bit harsh on him at the start– bugger didn’t make it easy with all his yapperin’, right?”

“…He seems to be doing well with the others these days,” I quietly mentioned, taking another drag.

“Really think so?”

“It is a mere assumption,” I lied to save face– far do I need the Bushman thinking Scout and I are getting along. “Monsieur Engineer surely worries for him.”

Sniper wheezed a small noise through his nose, replying back, “Naw that ain’t fair, Truckie worries ‘bout everyone, even yah.”

His sentence made me peep up another chuckle, “I have a suspicion he despises me after yesterday.”

As another paused settled in, I took the opportunity to think over our conversation. So far, everything the Bushman has told me seemed sincere enough, but the intent in his words worried me greatly. He had yet to do anything… _suspicious_ – that does not mean he will not act if given the chance. For now, I will keep my eye on him and hold silent in my knowing.

As the moment passed and I went in to take another long drag, Sniper blurted out again, “I’ve seen yah stalkin’ him.”

The deadpan forwardness of his tone made me hack up my cigarette, taking it from my mouth and coughing aloud. The Bushman watched in boredom as I hacked away, not too amused with how terribly I was exposing myself.

“ _Ahem_ –– Ahem!” I cleared my throat, adjusting my tie whilst I did so. My tone returned again, and I asked as politely as I could, “Pardon me, but who do you mean?”

“Yah know who I mean,” he grumbled back, not all too humored with my obvious pretending now.

My façade continued none the less, “Truly, was one horrendous accusation not enough? And honestly, is it not my job to watch over people? Far is it bad behavior to do my job, monsieur Sniper.”

“Bloke like yerself should be the last person harassin’ someone that young,” he scolded. My worrying actually calmed, relieved that the Bushman thought that I was merely harassing Scout and nothing more.

“Excuse me, but did you not just admit about bullying the boy the same?”

Sniper scoffed, sight away, trying to hide his scowl with his cigarette. He seemed embarrassed to admit he was caught red-handed, trying to blatantly ignore me now.

I shook my head, lecturing as if the man was a mere child, “This is war, monsieur Sniper. Coddling does no good here– far be it me to tell you that because you already know.” It felt quite hypocritical for me to say, because I have been coddling the boy far more than anyone else here.

“What I’m tellin’ yah is to act yer age yah _old coot_.” Such rudeness sounded strange at first, only now realizing something that I had completely forgotten.

Sniper may have had the look of a tired middle-age man, but he was just as young as the boy, let alone the rest of the mercenaries’ here. He had indeed fought in many battles, but he still had a lot to learn, especially if petty things like mere _bullying_ bothered him. It is actually funny to think of the man’s stern quietness and sulking is just him being shy– but far would he admit that.

“Pardon, but I sometimes forget how truly young you are,” I admitted, hiding my smile with my bud. Sniper seemed less than persuaded on my first truthful apology for the day, still scowling through his bud and puffing away. My smile held, flicking my bud away and crushing it out with the heel of my shoe. “I suppose I will hold back on the teasing,” I then _promised_ , Sniper’s stare back on me. “But only because the boy has been doing so well recently.”

“…Yeah. The little bugger’s been savin’ my arse quite a bit out there,” Sniper quietly admitted, seeming embarrassed on such a fact.

“Perhaps when you have the time, and when you do not have Soldier in your face, you can make some friendly conversations with monsieur Scout?” I suggested, acting more consoling. Sniper’s slight annoyance before sadden again, the bud in his mouth lazily drooping down. “…He seems surprisingly forgiving,” I added in. “I would even say friendly if you can stand his constant jabbering– but that is just something I have learned from all my _stalking_.”

Sniper perked a small smile, bud out of his mouth now and smooshed into the window’s sill.

“Yeah, might just do that.”

It was indeed fortunate that the two of us could have a proper conversation without killing the other– well, without _almost_ killing the other. Of course I faked my emotions throughout– why make the man hate my guts more knowing I utterly despised him, and for an _allegation_ he held tightly in secret from everyone else. _For now…_

My stay had gone on far longer than needed be, and I would hate to ruin all the lovely process the Bushman and I were able to get through.

“I enjoyed our little break together, Bushman,” I said, standing straight, fixing the cuff of my suit. “But I dreadfully must get back to work. _Adieu_.” He watched as I took my leave, heading closer towards the door out.

“Was the kid all yah wanted to complain ‘bout with me?” Sniper called back, sounding almost disappointed, probably upset that I was not trying to weasel him out for more information– perhaps later…

“Oui,” I replied back, stopping at the door and turning to look at him. “But _…_ I can keep you _company_ if that is what you truly wish.” My lips curled into a smirk, being purposely suggestive in my tone.

Sniper scoffed in disgust, back carelessly turned on me.

“Just git,” he grumbled aloud, once more lost in his scope and on the bloodshed outside.

My smirk before disappeared the moment our eye-contact left, frowning ever so darkly at the man now. I did not let my stare linger, turning my back the same and heading towards the battlefield once again.


	16. Coffee

When the battle had finally ended for the day and everyone was returning to respawn, I was the last to walk in, finding Sniper with the boy, the two actually having a pleasant conversation with the other.

Sniper exposed himself quite terribly, fiddling his hat in slight embarrassment, apologizing far more times than he needed to. Scout just snorted back, jabbing a friendly punch in the man’s shoulder, jokingly complaining on his over worrying and how he deserved the mark on his face. The sight alone was quite unusual, more so when I witnessed Soldier suddenly grabbing a friendly arm around Sniper, acting as their little fight before never happened.

More of the men soon surrounded Scout and Sniper– but not for ill intentions. Now, the once heated spurs of banter had become friendlier, the boy even able to quip back his own humorous rebuttals that got the other men laughing with him.

“Ze boy looks happy,” An unsettling but cheerful voice suddenly spoke close by, making my shoulders flinch up in surprise. I turned to look, finding the Doctor standing beside me, firm in his stance and hands behind his back. He exposed an uneasy smile, unnaturally amused in the scene in front of us. “Ja?” He asked again, a slight tilt to his head.

My focus slowly went off the Doctor and back on the boy again. I witnessed Scout’s cheerful smile and laugh so openly, in utter joy around the other men. The boy’s sight soon caught ours, looking eager to call us over to join in the merriment. Medic did a friendly wave back before his sight was on me, waiting to see how I would react. But all I did was turn away, keeping silent still as I made my leave out the respawn.

My rudeness was not for petty reasons, for I was quite happy to see Scout finally getting along with the others. I just could not help but feel… unwelcomed to such happiness.

Days went by since then, Scout spending more of his time pestering the other men instead of me now. Far is it the boy’s fault, for I have been the one purposely avoiding him. My job– all the mercenaries’ jobs here do not allow friendship, less romantic or sexual relationships. And our… _unique_ relationship is best kept in secret, even if everyone else merely saw us as close acquainted teammates.

Scout… _Jeremy_ and I truly have nothing in common but blood after all. Our encounters so far have been spurs of our sexual urges, or unfortunate misunderstandings that I questionably did to secure his safety– that I still do! From afar, I find myself in the old habit of watching, making sure no one said or touched him in the wrong way– monsieur Demoman is going to lose more than an eye if he cannot keep his hands in check.

But as carefully as I watched them all– especially the Bushman– nothing horrendous came to be. _Jeremy_ was well, and he was indeed happy.

_Happy…_

Before long, another month had already passed without me realizing. Miss Pauling had returned again in the commons, looking as busy as always, rustling through her bags and handing out papers to the men surrounding her.

I was there to witness the scene like the rest, Scout coming over, dropping to his knees and apologizing ever so profusely to Miss Pauling. The girl seemed most confused on such an action, just staring, unsure on the meaning.

When the boy did not stop in his overly apologetic rambling, she exposed a worrying smile and said, “Oh! It’s alright, Scout, don’t worry so much about it.”

_Jeremy_ looked up, in complete awe but joyful. He cheered back to his feet, looking as he wanted to hug her but was quick to stop in his foolery. Miss Pauling held her smile still as she handed over _Jeremy’s_ papers, going through the motions as if it was another day on the job. I never saw the boy look so eager accepting work, already heading out the room. His sight did not even look at mine as he passed by, not realizing I was there with my back on the wall, smoking on a cigarette.

I sighed quietly, feeling finished with my bud as I flicked it on the ground, crushing it with my foot.

_My, how long has it been since I last had a proper conversation with the boy?_

Worrying thoughts circled in my head, my overthinking trying to cause an issue that was not even there. Yes, I have spoken with _Jeremy_ from time to time during the battle, but far have I given myself the chance to speak alone with him, less commit on anymore…

“Spy, a moment,” a sweet womanly voice suddenly called my way, pulling me out from my thoughts. My sight blinked forward, finding Miss Pauling in front of me now.

“Yes, ma’dam?” I politely asked with a smile.

Miss Pauling opened her mouth before it snapped suddenly. Her eyes darted around the still crowded room, stepping ever so closer to me and quietly saying next, “I have something very _important_ to tell you.”

A curious thing to see and hear, but an oddity I understood quickly.

“ _Hm_ , I see…” I hummed in thought, eyeing around the same, seeing if anyone was noticing us together. “Pardon, but it is a bit stuffy in here, shall we head outside to cool off?”

Miss Pauling only blinked, having to think for a moment before nodding excitedly.

“Yes, of course!” She shouted a little loudly before clearing her throat. “ _Ahem_ … Lead the way.” She then nudged her head to the side, waiting for me to lead. And I did, leading Miss Pauling out the room as she followed closely behind.

The two of us made it outside on a balcony overhanging the building, the bright sun beaming above and warming us more out here than inside– far was that the true reason though. We hid in the shade, to not only keep cool but hide ourselves further from curious eyes.

Another look around before I began first, “It must be a contract of great importance if you wish to speak privately.” My form held stern and focus ever so serious, awaiting the work Miss Pauling wished to give.

Miss Pauling, however, was far the same in seriousness, looking more nervous and clumsy.

“Err… Kinda,” she stumbled, playfully circling her hair around her ear.

“Something amiss?” I questioned, unsure how to take this casual body language.

Happily, she explained, “I may have– don’t freak out now– lied!”

I phoned in a gasp, placing a hand on my chest, “You? Never would I imagine that a kindhearted young lady would be such a conniving scoundrel.”

She chuckled quite cutely, “Well, counter enough lawsuits and you end up learning a few things.”

As humorous as this encounter turned to be, I was still unsure on the motive. There were no noticeable signs that this was my rival in disguise, or that this was some form of test the Administrator was trying to pull.

I returned to form, and politely asked, “If we are not here on a contract, than this is something of equal importance? I am not quite sure what I should be entailing here, Miss Pauling.”

“Right, uh…” She began, having to pause to think. “Believe it or not, I actually have some break time for once. _Yay_ ,” she cheered quietly in the end, shoulders dancing a little. I said nothing, only quirking an eyebrow. She cleared her throat and continued, “Ehm, and– I noticed you are also off this weekend. Am I right– I am right, right?”

“Oui,” I nodded. “The administrator grants us the freedom outside this place every weekend.”

“ _Yes, lucky you…_ ” Miss Pauling’s tone quieted, a sudden sour look forming on her face. When she noticed my curious staring she returned to form again. “Not sure if you checked on the town close by, but they have a nice little coffee shop nearby and…” She went pink in the face, holding her eye-contact the best she could. Finally she spluttered out, “Would you like to share a coffee together?!” Another pause, the girl sucking in a heavy breath before adding on, “And maybe talk a bit– I already know a bunch about you, but I won’t speak out anything you wish held privately!”

My silence held for the moment, thinking deeply on the situation that befell me.

It is not the first for me to see an eager woman catch my eye, wishing for talk and attention, even if I have yet to know her name. I am not sure what rules she has in-place compared to us, but openly sleeping with the men she is working for seems quite out of line. Maybe my assumption is wrong again– all she could truly wish for is some friendly conversation whilst she drank... Ah, but far has any woman I met not fallen into my bed at one point or another.

My sight went on Miss Pauling, her hands gripped tightly on her clipboard, attention and focus entirely on me, ever so eager to hear my answer.

_How long has it been since I last touched a woman?_

My, it has indeed been long since I felt the gentleness of a young lady.

_She is quite a lovely woman._

Miss Pauling is indeed lovely, even with how messy she always appeared.

_She would deserve someone better than the boy._

…I cannot lie, for I would offer my services better than _Jeremy_ ever could.

_Jeremy never had a chance, so what would be the harm in taking her?_

Yes, I purposely played along, knowing full well that the boy did not even have the slightest of chance of _wooing_ Miss Pauling. I am not in the wrong for indulging in his fantasies– they were mere indulges after all, and there was no harm in that!

_Is that your excuse now?_

My hands held together, squeezing tightly. It was only when I left my thoughts that I realized how long I was taking to answer. Miss Pauling patiently waited none the less, staying quiet and still where she stood.

“I am flattered,” I finally spoke. Miss Pauling brightened up, already assuming a positive answer back. And as politely as I could, I gave it to her, “But I sadly have to decline your offer, for I am… not interested.”

Her once cheery expression instantly faded away, downhearted and surprised.

Again, I apologized with a slight bow, “I am deeply sorry.”

“Oh…” Miss Pauling quietly began, giving pause. She then forced a smile, spluttering next, “Oh, yes, what am I– of course! Silly me– what am I even thinking?” She smacked her clipboard on her face, laughing aloud now. “God, like, there is so much wrong about this– where do I begin?”

“No harm, ma’dam,” I continued in my politeness, wishing not to come off offended.

The phone resting on her side suddenly began vibrating loudly, making Miss Pauling instantly go silent once more. She purposely ignored the phone, the squeeze on her clipboard tightening, her head now dipped down and looking at the ground. It was obvious she was desperately holding back, not wishing to break down in front of me.

“Perhaps you should ignore it for the time being,” I told her, phoning in a gentler and consoling tone.

“…Yeah,” she sighed, head still low. “I have a day off to waste anyway.” Miss Pauling turned away when she picked her head up, already proceeding back into the building. “I really should get going,” she called, not even looking at me as she did. “Sorry to bother you, Spy!” And just like that, the girl hurried her leave, my being watching as she ran through the hall before disappearing around the corner.

I deeply sighed, not in the mood yet to re-enter the building as well. I made my way closer towards the balcony, my elbows resting on the wood’s edge. And before I knew it, my hands were already going through the usual motions, taking my case out and nicking another new bud within. The bud sat on my lips, my lighter already in hand as I hastily snapped at the flicker, accidently burning my thumb in the process.

“ _Bon sang_!” I cursed aloud, my fumbling making me drop the lighter as it clanked against the wood and spun behind my feet. Another swore spewed from my lips, popping my thumb in my mouth to wet the burn. My sight went down on my lighter, finding that it spun away quite far. I got off the wood, walking over and bending forward, clasping a firm hold on the metal, the shine beating off the sun and mirroring back my reflection.

My eyes widened in utter surprise.

The reflection on the lighter indeed mirrored my being, but the image that showed was wrong. There was I, without my mask, already sporting a lit cigarette in my mouth and smiling ever so amusedly. _Merde_ , I am not that far crazed to be seeing images that are not even there!

_You know, it is not the first time you have stolen another man’s woman._

An echo of my own voice vibrated through my ears, the image of my reflection speaking even when my lips had yet to move.

_Ha! Oh, that is far too kind for me to say– Jeremy is an utter incompetent virgin after all! It is laughable to think any woman would take their precious time bothering with that pathetic little wrench._

My brows furrowed, glaring ever so angrily at my reflection now.

_You would have done the boy a favor by_ _ravishing Miss Pauling right in front of him. At least he would finally understand what it means to be a real man and not some sad little **mistake**._

I still had yet to speak– there was no one to speak with! Such mirages are obviously my overworking and stress––!

_Hahaha!_

My reflection interrupted with a loud series of snorts.

_Overstressing over nothing is not good for your health– like the Doctor needs to scold you any further! Oh, who am I kidding_ – _you are not even supposed to be alive right now._

I held silent still, not wishing to participate with this– this foolery!

My reflection rolled their eyes, taking a long nonchalant drag to their cigarette. They blew smoke in the air, and sighed in content.

_‘There are many wrongs I have committed in my life.’_

Familiar words spilled out from my reflection’s lips.

_You have not said that in such a long time, I almost believed that you forgot. Hah… Non, never could you forget such a silly little phrase. You simply adore that phrase far too much to have such a sudden change of heart._

The reflection did another drag.

_It is truly lucky that things turned out the way they did, oui?_

I blinked, not understanding.

_You were able to commit on another wrong on your list, and one you never thought possible._

My grasp on my lighter tighten.

_But, honestly, haven’t you wasted enough time? You are acting like a silly fool– just go and have your way with Jeremy already like you did her––_

The lighter that was once grasped tightly in my hand was thrown over the ledge like a crumpled ball of garbage. I watched as it fell below before disappearing from my sight altogether. My elbows then fell back on the wood, holding my head up, my fingers digging deep into my balaclava.

I seemed to have let the time slip by, not knowing how long I was there in my loathing silence. Finally, I raised my head up to squint at the sun above, truly feeling the heat making me sweat through my balaclava. The bud in my mouth drooped down, pulling it out and flicking it away the same.

_If it were only that easy to rid that terrible side of me…_

“ _Got’cha_!” The boom of a high-pitched voice suddenly rang in my ears, and scrawny little fingers slapped right on my shoulders. My body flinched up in terrible surprise, turning to see _Jeremy_ behind me of all things.

“Monsieur Scout, please do not do that!” I yelled in both my annoyance and sudden fright.

“Aw, c’mon, you’re always scarin’ people from behind,” he chuckled aloud, taking his hands off me and stepping back.

I shook my head with an irritated groan, “Yes, but that usually leads to someone getting murdered– unless that is your plan, non?”

“Alright, geesh,” he eased his hands out, admitting to his rude behavior. _Jeremy_ skipped to where I stood, standing beside me now, arms crossed and rested on the wood. Another groan as I rested back the same.

I soon realized the oddity of the boy’s sudden appearance, questioning next, “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged, explaining quite nonchalantly, “I dunno, guess I was tryin’ to figure out where ya were hidin’ out this time.”

“…I was not hiding from you if it came off like that,” I replied, voice quieter.

“Yeah, yeah,” he pouted to the side, acting annoyed. His smile quickly returned again, saying next, “Whateve’– I found you, yeah? And I ain’t gonna let you slip away from me again, got it? But not in that weird stalkerish way or whateve’, we all need our space and all.”

I perked a small smile, happy to hear of his worry. There was a beat of silence afterwards, _Jeremy’s_ sight off me and looking towards the bright horizon. His cheery attitude moments ago had vanished, seeming more downhearted and upset.

“Okay,” he began again, quieter than he usually spoke. “Maybe I lied a little bit– only a little though, ‘cause I was really wonderin’ where ya disappeared to.” _Jeremy_ then stopped, seeming hesitant now. Through the silence, I thought over his reasoning of being here, and at such a peculiar moment. The timing of it all and the sad expression the boy held…

I risked a terrible guess and asked, “Pardon, but you did not happen to see––?”

“Yeah, I saw,” _Jeremy_ interrupted, but still held calm. I said nothing back, sight away from him now, quite disheartened that he had to see that awkward little scene.

_Jeremy_ continued on, “Guess my dumb self wanted to triply make sure Miss P. and I were all cool and, I dunno, and maybe try again on that offer of goin’ out to eat or somthin’? I saw you two go off together and I maybe kinda followed behind without ya really knowin’…” He paused, taking a moment to think on his next say. My sight came back, looking but not hurrying him to continue further. “I dunno– stuff like that really ain’t any of my business and all, and I probably should’ve just left you two alone... But yet here I am, makin’ stupid choices again like a dumbass!”

“Curiosity is a terrible thing to have,” I mentioned, trying to help the gloomy mood.

_Jeremy_ actually chuckled at that, joking back, “Says the guy whose main job is to be all curious and nosy.”

There was another pause of silence, neither one of us speaking up– far is it a good sign when _Jeremy_ has no motivation to open his mouth.

“…You didn’t reject her ‘cause of me, did you?” _Jeremy_ finally spoke again, voice low and quiet. The sad expression and tone terribly exposed his self-doubt and shame, far more than it needed to.

“Non!” I quickly replied, standing proper and off the edge. “I truly had no interest in her, Monsieur Scout.”

“…She’d probably be better off with a dude like you anyway.”

“Scout!”

My hand suddenly clasped on his shoulder, surprising the boy with a widen stare and blink. We stood like that for some time, my hand still clasped and his stare still right at me, unsure what I would do next.

“Pardon,” I apologized, taking my hand off. “But I do not like it when you put yourself down like that.”

_Jeremy_ held his reaction still, but for a different meaning this time.

“Oh– Oh,” the boy spluttered quite terribly, a rare sight of his reddish face exposing itself. “Geesh, you can’t just go off and say stuff like that all of a sudden… freakin’ weirdo.” He fiddled with his cap, trying to hide away at his sheepish state.

“Such a side terribly does not suit your character,” I humored back, hoping to brighten the mood again.

_Jeremy_ brought his face into view, returning a warm smile. He only looked away for another second before he suddenly sprung off the wood, grabbing a hold of my hand.

“Hey, I wanna show you somethin’.” He asked– almost demanded even as he started to pull me forward. “C’mon, c’mon!”

“Un moment!” I called back, _Jeremy_ forcing me a few steps forward before stopping. The urgency was so sudden that I had yet to realize what he was even trying to do. I held my smile and politely told him, “As sweet as it is holding hands, I can simply follow behind.”

_Jeremy’s_ sight went on my hand, the embarrassment he held before popping up again, completely exposing himself. He hurried off, shoving his hands in his pants pocket.

“Yeah, uhm– just don’t lag behind!” He called back, already stepping forward until stopping at the entrance leading back inside. His head crook to the side, waiting for me, but more than ready to take another step once I got close enough.

Whatever the boy wanted of me, I did not have the heart to deny his company. So, I hurried over, following closely behind _Jeremy_ as we made our way down the hall.


	17. Photos

_Jeremy_ taking me to his room was not so much a surprise, but what was inside truly left me in awe.

The usually messy room I had entered in before was… _clean_. Not just a simple clean where he would lazily pick up his scattered belongings and stuff them in the closet for later. The entirety of his floor was bare and vacuumed, making easy passage to walk in and out without tripping over. Drawers and cabinets now closed properly without clothing slipping through, most likely neatly folded and straighten for the future days to come. Not only that, his bed was made to almost perfect condition, his pillows and blankets flatten down and in the proper placements.

I must have terribly looked like a fool, standing at his door still, just staring with a hung mouth.

 _Jeremy_ noticed my gawking, holding a cheeky smile. “What’cha standin’ like a moron for?” He humored over, breaking me out from my daze. He then pointed at his bed and said, “Go sit your butt down.”

I said nothing still, doing as the boy asked and walking closer to his bed– my, even the sheets felt recently washed. As I sat, I watched _Jeremy_ rush towards a closet nearby, searching from top to bottom.

“Pardon,” I finally spoke, hunching slightly forward to see what he was doing. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“This!” _Jeremy_ said with utter glee, snapping the closet shut with his elbow as his hands now held a small metal box. He hurried over and plopped down next to me, setting the box on his lap and snapping the lid off, revealing inside a pile of faded photos.

“Photos?” I questioned with an eyebrow raise.

“Expectin’ porno magazines or somthin’?” He replied back, his terrible humorous side exposing itself.

 _Jeremy_ began rummaging through the many photos, finally pulling out a particular one he wished to show, handing it out for me to take. Carefully, I take the picture and examine it. The colorless image displayed a group of people close together– a family photo of sorts. Many were young men and boys, smiling and hanging arms around the other, some acting most rude by making silly faces at the cameraman.

_Oh, Ma chérie…_

In the middle of all those foolhardy men sat a lovely lady, carrying a baby in her arms, smiling ever so warmly at the camera. She looked as young as the first day I met her, implying that this photo was taken a long, _long_ time ago.

“See this big doofus?” _Jeremy_ said, pointing at one of the taller looking men in the picture, similar to the boy but more muscular and older. “That’s James, my oldest bro.” His finger trailed from one man to the next as he listed out, “And then there’s Jack, Jayden, Jaxson– think my Ma just liked the letter J or somthin’.”

I vaguely remember some of these boys and men, other children of hers, but not part of my own. Far did her questionable choices make me judge– all I wanted at the time was to be with her, recklessly ignoring my cruel and heartless lifestyle in hopes it would go away. Non, I was far too gone to live in a normal or peaceful life anymore. Never would I risk her being or the being of her children for selfish happiness.

“See that little shit in Ma’s arms?” _Jeremy_ pointed at the baby _Ma chérie_ held. “That’s me, the cutest damn baby you’d ever see.” He then thumbed at himself, holding his cheery smile still.

It was amusing to think _Jeremy_ was a calm and quiet child at one point, happily sleeping away in _Ma chérie’s_ arms with no care or worry in the world.

“My Ma and Bros were always there to watch my back,” _Jeremy_ started explaining suddenly, breaking my focus off the photo. “Ya know, to make sure I wasn’t gettin’ picked on by the wrong people or doin’ shit I wasn’t supposed to.” He once again pointed at the photo, chuckling next, “ _Hah_ , you wouldn’t believe what my oldest bro went through to make sure this little shitball didn’t drop dead before he got outta diapers. Yeah, that guy… That guy was like a _dad_ to me.” A sudden pause from _Jeremy_ , hand retreated back on his lap. “’Cause I never grew up with one, none of us did.”

“…That is a terrible thing to hear,” I quietly replied, openly expressing my sadness.

 _Jeremy_ blinked back over in quite a surprise. “Didn’t think you get sympathy over dumb crap like that,” he said, finger scratching at his cheek, a bit embarrassed.

Once more I looked at the photo, my frown slowly becoming a smile the more I stared.

“Your _mother_ is a charming lady.”

“Hey, don’t be gettin’ ideas!” _Jeremy_ snatched the photo from my hand, throwing it back into his little box.

Before long, _Jeremy_ was showing off photo after photo of all the antics he went throughout the years– birthday parties, baseball games, every single one of his school years. It was if his life was flashing before my very eyes, seeing him grow from the foolhardy young boy to an even foolhardier older man. And through it all, a question lingered in the back of my head, curious to know why he was even showing me any of this.

“You got any family, Spy?” _Jeremy_ suddenly asked, taking my sight away from another one of his mess-filled birthday photos.

“Perhaps,” I replied quite casually, giving the photo back as he took it.

“ _Perhaps_ ,” he mocked, trying to phone in my accent. He threw the photo back in the box and continued on, “Yeah, yeah, I know you gotta be all secret and crap ‘bout this stuff, but it’s not like you were dropped off at some random door by the stork now! And don’t tell me you were or I’ll friggin’ hit you.”

My past was something I could not recall myself, layering it atop so many lies and fabrications that even I forget what was hidden beneath it all. If I could remember the real _me_ , then I may understand how I became to be the man that I am now. Alas, that has become in impossibility for the longest time.

“I am sad to say, but much of my family has been deceased for some time,” I lied, just wishing to move the conversation forward. _Jeremy_ seemed somewhat shocked to hear that, having to take a moment to speak.

“You really got no one?”

“No one that does not wish me dead,” I tried to humor with a smile.

“Like,” _Jeremy_ started before pausing again. “...You don’t even have a wife or _kid_ or––?”

“I cannot talk about myself, monsieur Scout, please stop asking,” the words spewed out far too quick, even for me to realize. My sight was off, hands squeezed together now, feeling far more nervous than I was moments ago. The sudden unsettling silence made me afraid to speak anything more, terribly exposing myself.

“Well, ya got me!” _Jeremy_ then said aloud, sitting a friendly hand on my shoulder and shaking me a bit. My widen sight returned, seeing once more his cheery and youthful smile. “And, like, maybe the other guys as well– What I’m sayin’ is that we’re all one big dumb happy family together, Spy.”

_Family…_

Never did I believe _Jeremy_ would see me as such, and for all the wrong reasons. I am already _family_ to him, but not out of camaraderie or friendship or even love. To be given this privilege so openly over, I…

My lacking reaction and silence already answered the boy for me, his hand hurrying off and sitting back on his lap.

“…Hey, forget I said anythin’!” He laughed out nervously, trying to hold his smile still. He began fumbling with the lid’s top, struggling to click it back into place. “Just bein’ a freakin’ moron like always!” His unusual laughter continued, getting up next and rushing over towards his closet, throwing the box carelessly on a shelf.

“Pardon, it was just unexpected to hear that from you,” I admitted with another somewhat lie, standing up and walking over. “How foolish of me to be so caught off-guard, and after you showed me all those _precious_ photos,” again I tried to humor the mood with my own laughter and smile.

 _Jeremy_ suddenly stood in silence, front still on the open closet and hand on the handle’s door. Slowly, he turned whilst finally closing the door, eyebrows furrowed now, expressing a look of utter annoyance. He looked me down once and then shook his head.

“I don’t freakin’ get you, Spy,” he rudely spitted, his once joyful attitude gone in a blink of an eye. “No, really, why are you tryin’ so hard to get on my good side if you’re just gonna pretend to give a crap?”

Such sudden change truly surprised me, hurrying an apology back, “Non, I was truly enjoying our time together.”

“And by tomorrow you’ll be screwin’ off doin’ whateve’–– I dunno, probably fuckin’ other people behind my back or somthin’.”

“I assure you, I have done nothing of the sort…” I was again apologizing, only stopping once I realized the implications of his sentence. “Monsieur Scout, do not tell me you are bothered by the thoughts of me sleeping with other people?”

“Hell no!” His say was in quite a hurry, terribly losing some of his sternness. “I don’t freakin’ care one bit who you fuck– you can go off and have that date with Miss P and I wouldn’t give a shit!” _Jeremy_ crossed his arms, purposely hiding his sight away as to ignore me.

“…It does bother you.”

 _Jeremy_ did not argue back this time, sight still away and frowning ever so sadly now.

I continued, “Can you tell me why?”

“…Alright, maybe it does,” He finally admitted, head forward but sight on the ground now. “I know– I know what we do doesn’t mean shit or anythin’, but I don’t wanna see you goin’ off messin’ with anyone else.”

The two of us then fell in dreaded silence.

When we began this little _relationship_ , I never imagined it lasting as long as it had. I held no worry that _Jeremy_ would want it to become anything more, for he dreadfully hated the thoughts of being besides another man.

As I told him, this meant _nothing_.

What we were doing meant _nothing_.

He knew this meant _nothing_.

But it did turn out to mean _something_ for him in the end, and that thought alone sickened me horribly.

My throat tighten, holding back that dread that wished to spew up my throat– far was it the time!

“Pardon, but I believe I should leave,” my next say was sudden, startling the boy where he stood. I was already proceeding my way towards the door, not wishing to hear his answer back.

“Hey– Hey wait a second!” _Jeremy_ called, hurrying after and grabbing a hold of my arm, pulling me a step back. “Stop assumin’ crap I haven’t even said yet!”

The rudeness of his touch made me angry, complaining back, “If that is the case, I do not understand why you are upset with me!” I tried to move my hand forward, but _Jeremy’s_ hold only tightened as he brought it back. “Again, I have not slept with anyone else. But that should not matter– we are not in a relationship, I promised you that!”

“I changed my mind!”

My struggling stopped, again staring at the boy in utter awe.

“I… I changed my mind,” he repeated more quietly.

 _Jeremy’s_ face flushed up red, very much embarrassed admitting something so openly. I felt the tightness of his grip loosen before letting go entirely. His head once again fell, and he muttered quite lowly, “ _Hah_ , _freakin’ pathetic_ …” He placed his hand on his forehead, hiding his face. “You’re right, Spy, I shouldn’t be givin’ a crap what you do– shit like this is your job or somthin’ anyway.” He then turned his back on me. “So… So just get outta here. And, like, just forget about this whole _thing_ we had together, OK?”

Even as he asked, and even when I was so eager to leave moments ago, I did no such thing. I was being ridiculous– I should have been gone by now, taking the chance to leave behind this growing depravity! Non, not again– I cannot just abandon _Jeremy_ yet again!

I finally made my move as I stepped closer, standing in front of _Jeremy_ now. My hands rested upon his shoulders, causing a sudden choked whimper to spew from him. Slowly, I turned him around so we faced the other. His head instantly snapped away from looking at me, hand still covering his face, only exposing the angry grit he made with his mouth.

“Scout,” I quietly began. “May I please see your face?”

I waited to see what he would do, the hand on his face slowly moving away, exposing his dreadfully redden and puffed eyes. He did not shed many tears, doing his best to suck in his anger and stress. My hand then rested on his cheek, gently caressing a thumb through.

 _Jeremy_ did a loud sniff, perking up a small smile. “This– This is what I mean when I say I don’t friggin’ get you, Spy,” he spoke through his breathy stuttering. “You do stuff that doesn’t make– doesn’t make any freakin’ sense, you really don’t...” He paused again, taking a deep inhale. “My Ma and bros… they always gave me the support I needed. But you? You were just some random dude I worked with. You shouldn’t– You shouldn’t give a single shit about me, you really shouldn’t.”

Perhaps at one point that was true, for I truly would not care for _Scout_ , but I indeed would care for _Jeremy_.

“––Maybe you’re doin’ all this as a joke or whateve’… I dunno– I honestly don’t give a crap anymore. I just really like bein’ around you, Spy. And it ain’t ‘cause I like doin’ this shit with you because you’re a dude– you can joke all you want about it if you think otherwise! …But I know you won’t. At least– At least not anymore, I think.” There was another pause. “I’m bad at this kinda talkin’– Damn it! I hate this stupid emotional bullshit,” he berated at himself, wiping a bandaged knuckle on the other side of his face.

“It is fine, monsieur Scout,” I reassured, doing a quick thumb over his eye the same. I continued comforting him as he tried settling down, wishing not to weep anymore unneeded tears.

Then, _Jeremy_ spoke once more, “You make me feel safe.” I stopped my thumb. “I know it sounds stupid to say, but I really feel safe havin’ you around, Spy. So… don’t go hidin’ away without me knowin’ where you are.”

Never would I believe openly hearing that from _Jeremy_ , admitting of his cowardice being here, around killers and murders and sexual assaulters. It is indeed a scary place, even more so from teammates who promise close trust and companionship. Out of everyone, he placed trust on the cruelest and vilest man there was.

_A worthless father abusing hidden knowledge for his own gain…_

Berating on my actions any further would just be repeating myself– I know what I have done, and no amount of excuses or lies will change that fact. If this was the only way I believed that _Jeremy_ and I would become closer, then so be it.

I accepted this _wrong_ , just the same as my many others.

“If you want this to be more, then so be it.”

Jeremy’s eyes widen up at me. He was caught speechless, for once not letting his mouth chitter about to soil the mood. Even in his awestruck state, I awaited an answer back, not wishing to push anything onto him if he happened to change his mind yet again.

Bandaged hands suddenly planted on my shoulders, the boy jumping forward and trying to plant his mouth on mine, only to smack our faces together. We both grunted and winced out in pain, the impact leaving slight teeth marks around our lips.

“Crap––! Sorry, I just got a little excited and I wanted to try and be suave and– crap, I’m so freakin’ bad at this!” _Jeremy_ apologized with another groan, touching at his teeth to see if everything was still there.

“Nn… it is fine,” I grumbled back, somewhat irritated on such a rude action. Once the soreness settled for both of us, we made eye-contact again, _Jeremy’s_ flushed up expression trying to hold a more stern and serious look– it was quite adorable, if an unnecessary attempt. Ah, but even I know that a woman prefers a man who is confident rather than meek. “Perhaps it would be best to simply ask, oui?”

“Ye– Yeah. I’m gonna– I wanna kiss you, Spy,” he spluttered but still held his form.

I responded with only a nod and smile, _Jeremy_ ’s expression calming as he did the same back. He slowly eased in, our breaths touching our faces before our lips pressed together. I let Jeremy sink into my mouth, tasting his sugary citrus sweetness mixing with my harsh burnt nicotine. The boy surprisingly held back on his recklessness, letting our wetted lips do small presses and pecks. He parted only slightly, noses sat next to the other, our tired sights on each other.

“I also…” He began, quieter this time. “I also wanna make you feel good, Spy.”

Such an offer was a surprise, hurrying my reply back, “Non, you do not have to if you––”

“No, I wanna!” He reassured, looking the out most serious. “And I promise I won’t screw it up or chicken out either!”

 _Jeremy_ truly wished to please me, and without the need for pesky alcohol getting in our way. Far have I felt his touch on me for many days now, the offer bringing out dormant urges.

_Ah… but we are something now, so what would be the issue? We both want this– is that not enough?_

The dread that swelled in my stomach calm– for only this one moment.

Again, I held my smile, placing space between us and offering my hand out for _Jeremy._

“Very well. Shall you guide me towards your bed?”


	18. Warmth

The walk towards the bed was only a few steps, _Jeremy_ being polite as to hold my hand as he guided me to our destination. I came to the edge to sit myself down, only for the boy to hurry forward with another sloppily placed kiss. The weight of his body slowly pushed me back on the bed, the two of us falling onto it with a soft plop. _Jeremy_ ’s body pressed against mine as we kissed, the ringing metal of his dog tags shaking between the slight movements we did.

While his eagerness started strong, it faltered the moment his fingers touched the pesky buttons on my suit, terribly struggling to snap them off in fear of breaking them.

I held a smile, politely telling over, “There is no need to rush, take your time.”

 _Jeremy_ said nothing but nodded, taking a deep breath and blowing slowly. Again, he reached at my suit, still fiddling with the buttons. I helped him through, gently wrapping my hands and showing him the motions. Once everything was unsnapped, he pulled my suit as it ran down my shoulders, displaying my vest now. _Jeremy_ attempted my vest’s buttons with a bit more success, snapping them carefully as it spread apart and displayed my dress shirt.

The overabundant of clothing caused quite an adorable puffed-up expression to appear on _Jeremy’s_ face, quietly muttering on why I needed so many layers of unneeded shirt wear. I was tempted to mention that we had yet to strap off my garter socks, but far did I want this encounter to get too frisky now.

Bandaged hands slid underneath my shirt, pulling it up and finally exposing my lightly scarred and pale skin. I could feel rough cloth run up my body, the itching of his bandages making me squirm from the touch.

“Crap,” I heard the boy swear under his breath, watching as he moved his hands away, trying to peel off the bandaged tape.

“Scout, do not worry about that,” I hurried my say, grabbing his hands and bringing them back on my chest. “Please, keep going.” Such minor pleasures were already overwhelming my thoughts, wanting to feel more of his touch– wanting to feel more of _Jeremy_.

 _Jeremy_ gulped, eyes focused on my body. Slowly, he moved one hand down, the other up, his fingers tracing at the exposed line of bone around my ribcage, taking in my slim figure. Such tickling sensation made me wheeze through my nose, closing my eyes to take in the feeling. But he stopped suddenly, my sight snapping open to see what the problem was. His own sight was on my neck now, taking one hand off my body, reaching it forward before pulling back. He noticed my staring, growing quite red in embarrassment, his mouth opening but hesitant to speak.

Slowly, he took another breath and finally asked, “Can I remove your mask?”

My reaction back was terribly open with surprise. Such a request was a huge oversight, foolishly forgetting the most important piece of clothing on my being. Never once has _Jeremy_ seen me without it, not knowing the true face of the man he had committed so many sexual endeavors with. Though, it would be unfortunate if my balaclava was the only thing keeping this terrible secret hidden…

I did not even finish that thought as my fingers instantly snipped at my neck, finding the thin line of cloth stuck onto my skin. And like a bandage to a papercut, I ripped it off my being, revealing my face in full.

There was a pause, both of us just staring at the other. The reaction _Jeremy_ held was… I will be frank, for I do not believe _Jeremy_ even knew what face he was making at that moment. The best guess I could give to myself was that he held a mix of awe, and perhaps fright, witnessing quite a secretive part of my being. His shoulders then jittered up, only now realizing how rude he was being just staring and not saying anything.

“Uh, er–– I think your hair is kinda cool!” He began spluttering. “Like, how it’s all black at the top and goin’ all white at the bottom… Not that I’m callin’ you old! Well, you are old– but that’s beside the point–– _mh_ ––!”

I knew another one of his ramblings was about to begin, so I reached out and grabbed his face, stealing his mouth before he went off blabbering on about nothing. _Jeremy_ only muffled a complaint before quickly settling into my kiss, even eager to add in his own kissing in return as he pushed his way further in my mouth, playfully tussling our tongues together.

Whether or not I should be thankful that _Jeremy_ did not even know the face of his own _father_ … Non, enough of that– such worrying is not the time.

When we parted again, _Jeremy_ moved his head in lower, his lips pressing onto my chest and peppering me down with kisses. I hummed quietly, watching as he wetted the faded scars and burns around my stomach. His presses then went further up my body, reaching at my nipple. He did not even hesitate as he kissed upon it, the sudden jolting pleasure making me squeak out. I felt the slick wetness of his tongue circle around my hardening flesh before puckering onto it, pulling it slightly and letting go with a loud pop.

I felt his fingers playing with my other nipple, trying to tease that as well, but being far too distracted on one or the other to please both. _Jeremy_ got all puffed-face again, seeming annoyed with himself, which in turn got me to chuckle at his cute frustration.

“You are doing wonderful,” I quietly reassured, laying my hand on his cheek and brushing a thumb through. My touch seemed to calm him, sinking in it with a sweet smile.

He soon continued again, fingers playing about my body and tongue tasting the soft flesh. His other hand ran down, slipping through my slacks, his palm sitting upon my still flaccid cock. To my surprise, the boy did not quip a witty remark at my lacking enthusiasm. When his sight met mine, he held a look of understanding and gave a comforting smile. It… honestly embarrassed me, feeling the warmth of my face flush up.

 _Jeremy’s_ fingers slid against the fabric covering my cock, teasing ever so slowly now. He did this motion with his suckling, doing a little better in keeping the two decently paced.

“I wanna see ya get hard, Spy,” he quietly pleaded through his indecent sucking. “C’mon… get hard.” The sweet noises he spewed made my body tense, unable to hold back my obscene moaning. The warmth below grew, my slowing erection perking up through my slacks.

 _Jeremy_ peeled back some of my underwear, exposing my half-harden cock into the open. Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around it. He seemed somewhat nervous holding onto something so fragile, his fingers spreading apart before sliding together again. He stuttered another breath, focus straight on his hand. His movements first went down, letting the hand stay in place for some time before sliding up. Soon, his motions were more steadily done, properly jerking me off now.

 _Jeremy’s_ mouth went on my nipple again, puckering his lips on the wet flesh before doing a slight bite down.

“ _Aa_ ––!” I gasped aloud, surprised from the sudden stimulation.

“Crap, I’m sorry!” _Jeremy_ panicked, picking his head off, a string of saliva breaking from his lips. His constant worry was most unneeded, but thoughtful to see.

The slight pain subsided, and I sighed back, “Non… I am fine, monsieur Scout.” I let myself breathe for a moment before urging him on, “Do not be afraid to be a bit _experimental_...”

 _Jeremy_ silently nodded, taking another breath of his own. He licked his lips and pressed them back on my nipple, doing another bite on the bud, healing it with the warmth and wetness of his tongue.

“Monsieur Scout,” I sighed again, hanging my head back, letting it rest in his sheets.

“You– You feelin’ good?” _Jeremy_ asked with a breath, still jerking but mouth off my chest now.

“Oui, keep at it,” I threw out a positive response, exposing a twitchy smile. If I had to speak the truth, I would admit that a lot of what _Jeremy_ was doing was still really amateurish and clumsy. But he was trying, and he showed honest care and worry. That was far more than many of my previous lovers have ever done.

“This is so freakin’ hot, Spy…” _Jeremy_ quietly said, quite mesmerized by his own work.

It was only then that I noticed how vulnerable _Jeremy_ was acted and looked, even when he was the one taking control of the moment. Shaking and panting, his face redder than it ever appeared in battle. My sight went down, seeing his bulge through his baggy pants. He had yet to be touched the same, but he was already so hard for me. _Ah_ … to be so youthful.

I wanted to be a little more active, raising my knee up and pressing it against _Jeremy’s_ groin.

“ _Ah_ ––!” _Jeremy_ squeaked aloud, forehead falling onto my chest.

“Ah, pardon,” I said, unable to hold back a chuckle. “I am curious though, what have I done to get you so hard?”

 _Jeremy_ said nothing but picked his head up, exposing his furrowing glare and reddish tone– that was telling enough of his embarrassment. He suddenly removed his hand off my cock, fiddling with his pants and underwear, exposing himself.

“Monsieur Scout, what are you––? _Aah_ ––!” I tried to speak, but was interrupted by my own moaning. _Jeremy_ had pressed our cocks together, able to wrap his entire hand over them.

“ _Oh_ – _Oh mon_ …”

“ _Haah_ … Spy.”

We both moaned, feeling the heat of our fleshes pressed so close. Our sights crossed, _Jeremy_ being the first to move in for another kiss as I take him in. He did not hold back, already shakily jerking our cocks together. We both squirmed from the itching pressure, mouths breaking apart to breathe only to smother the other again.

My arms wrapped around _Jeremy_ , keeping a tight hold as if he would slip away the moment I let off the weight. Another break, the two of us exhausted of air– even more so I, beginning to cough and wheeze out quite terribly.

_Merde, this is not the time…_

_Jeremy_ noticed this strange _issue_ quickly, stopping his movements.

“Crap– hey, are you alright?” He asked, both worried and frustrated now, wishing to put space between us but being unable to with my hold still on him.

“ _Haaa_ … I… a moment,” was all I could muster out, having trouble thinking properly. I did best not to panic, slowly taking control of my lungs again. Even when I finally settled, _Jeremy_ stayed still, still unnecessarily worried if I was fine or not. I wish to put the focus back on our pleasure, caressing my hand through his back before letting it slide up his neck and head. _Jeremy_ soon calmed, taking in my touch as I gently stroked my fingers through his hair.

“I like that,” he quietly said.

I hummed back, unsure on what he meant.

“I dunno, I’ve always liked it when you, like, touched my face or stroke my head or…” He paused, and then began berating himself, “That was super weird to say– _freakin’ dumbass_.” His self-consciousness just made me want to comfort him more, petting his head further with a laugh and smile. My action in turn brought back his confidence, hurrying his jerking once more. “Stop treatin’ me like I’m a kid when– _Ahh_ … when we’re doin’ perverted crap like this. Freakin’… _weirdo_ ,” he scolded lightly, more embarrassed than annoyed.

Another chuckle as I tried apologizing back, “My– My sincere apology… _Mnh_ ––! Monsieur Scout… But when you act so rebellious at such an age still–– _Ah_ ––! I cannot help it…”

The springs of his beaten up mattress rang out, our bodies shifting and bouncing slightly from both our movements. My grip on him tightened further, fingers digging into his shirt and hair. Such heat and excitement was something I did not properly prepare for– _ah_ , I am finding it hard to breathe again.

I felt wetness upon my cock, _Jeremy_ already leaking his pre-essence onto me. The grit the boy made with his mouth and the heavy wheezing through his nose was warning enough that he was close.

“Damn it!” _Jeremy_ swore, frustrated with himself. “Spy– Spy, are you close?”

My cock was indeed hard, but I felt nowhere close just yet. And, sadly, I doubt I was going to get there in time before _Jeremy_ popped.

“ _Hahh_ … If you wish to come, it is fine,” I reassured through another hefty breath, wishing to see his fulfillment.

“I– I don’t wanna just yet– _Ah_ ––!” He tried complaining, even when the movements of his hand would not stop.

All I did was hold my smile and reassured once more, “It is fine– _Mnh_ … You may come, Scout.”

 _Jeremy’s_ head dipped into my neck, listening ever so closely to his sweet whining and moaning. His furious rubbing showed no stopping, feeling the beating of his cock grow faster, feeling warmer, more sticky and wet. He was at his edge, and he just needed the extra push.

I turned my head closer to his ear, and whispered ever so softly, “ _S'il te plait viens pour moi_ …”

My words set Jeremy to his limit, coming with a loud howl. His essence spilled upward, sticky glops landing on my chest while the rest painted my groin. I held my hold on _Jeremy_ as his coming continued in waves, unable to stop shaking or control his loud moaning. The movement of his hand slowed before going still, finished with all he could give. And once done, his body laid heavy on mine, completely exhausted. My hand rubbed at his backside again, waiting for his energy to return.

“ _Haah_ … Damn it,” _Jeremy_ spoke only to swear at himself, picking his head up, really disappointed with himself.

I only replied back with another smile, my sight then going down. One hand slid off _Jeremy_ , touching at the mess he left below. Semen had drenched my cock, more of it running down my thighs and soiling his sheets. My hand dipped into the sticky liquid, bringing forward some of the essence and popping a finger in my mouth.

“ _Mmh_ … You have such a sweet taste,” I said through my purposely loud moaning and sucking. _Jeremy’s_ semen had a slight fruity aftertaste to it– the culprit most likely being his overdose of sugary drinks and foods.

 _Jeremy’s_ face beamed red at the perverse sight, his angry and worry vanished in an instant. When I went to scoop up some more, _Jeremy_ suddenly grabbed at my hand. He brought it closer to his mouth, staring down at it. He hesitated at first before slowly opening his mouth, licking at my semen drenched fingers. And immediately his face soured up, forcing himself out from my hold. He sat further away, spewing the contents onto his bed and further soiling the sheets.

“Fuck, that’s so freakin’ gross!” He swore through his coughing.

I laid on the bed still, slightly daze, mind still clouded in lust and want. The feeling around my cock was gone– no, no that will not do, I still have yet to come myself.

My dirtied hand slid down into my slacks, pushing them down far enough that my behind was more exposed. I then did a most indecent action in front of _Jeremy_ , proceeding to tease at my entrance. The feeling made me flinch, slowly pushing a finger inside and feeling the warm flabby muscle within. Rarely do I let my urges go this far, but a simple hand is never enough– I need another’s touch, I need _Jeremy’s_ touch!

 _Jeremy_ looked back once he heard my moaning, sight widen in utter astonishment, watching as I fucked myself on my finger.

“Ahh… Monsieur Scout,” I pleaded for more of his attention, pulling back my finger and stretching out the skin. “Please… I want to come as well. _S'il vous plait_ …”

 _Jeremy_ gulped, hesitating for a moment before crawling back over. He sat in front of me now, my opened legs sitting next to his sides and my arms lying flat on the bed now. His hands lingered in the air, one finally moving as to grab a hold of my stiffen cock. The other hand soon moved the same, going much lower, his fingers sliding down my behind before hitting warmer flesh. I could see the internal sputtering going through his mind, unable to comprehend what he just touched. It is silly to think the boy never once touched there– humans are quite uncleanly people in their very nature, and there was nothing wrong with touching even the dirtiest parts of your body.

He took a deep inhale through his nose. And finally, _Jeremy_ began pushing his finger through. It was a smooth slick inside, _Jeremy_ able to insert his entire finger in with ease. The finger pressed around the flabby flesh, testing the feel of such intense warmth.

“Oh man, oh man,” I heard _Jeremy_ stammer, really in a flustered mess. Perhaps he decided too quickly on such a dirty decision, utterly clueless on what to do next– _simpleton_.

“Monsieur Scout,” I called again, snapping the boy out from his thoughts. “Please, move your hands…”

 _Jeremy_ nodded, taking another deep breath. Soon, I felt the movement of his finger pulling swiftly back before thrusting inside again. My body jolted from the suddenness, pressing my lips tightly together to hold back my whining. He was able to do this whilst jerking my cock, leaving nothing below untouched as a surge of tingling pleasure ran throughout my body. He unknowingly pressed against my prostate, making me squeal out a most embarrassing cry. When he noticed such a reaction, he once more pulled back before pushing straight through, able to repeat this motion in quickening success– _oh mon dieu, this is too much!_

My face smooshed into the sheets, letting my voice muffle through, my shaking legs pressing against _Jeremy’s_ sides as I finally came. The movements _Jeremy_ made halted, his shaking grip very noticeable when watching me release in his hand. Sadly, like always, the pleasures that released quickly vanished in an instant, once more soft to the touch and quite exhausted to breathe normally.

I slowly settled down, _Jeremy_ taking the moment to pull his finger out, his other hand moving off my cock as well. A mixture of both our semen drenched his hand, wetting his bandages to the point they started sliding down his arms. _Jeremy_ in that instant took another opportunity to lick away at the semen, coughing slightly, but swallowing down once he satisfied his curiosity.

“I guess it doesn’t taste so bad… _Still kinda gross_ ,” he said, hiding his voice through his hand.

His silliness got me to snort, exposing a weary smile back. I then reached a hand outward, and breathily asked, “Scout… come here.”

 _Jeremy_ let me pull him closer, his head in my neck again, my arms tightly wrapped around his body. We rested like that for some time, taking in our heat.

“And I…” Scout suddenly spoke, uncovering his reddish face. “And I like it when you hold me as well.” He paused again, and then grumbled, “Stop makin’ me say weird shit, Spy.” He hid his face back in my neck, still grumbling.

I merely chuckled, petting at his head once more.


	19. Ma

I exited the boy’s bathroom, appearing half-dressed in my suit and slacks, my slick and wet hair exposed out, hinting that I had just taken a shower. _Jeremy_ was near his bed still, crumpling up his sheets into a ball, stuffing it into a basket nearby to clean for later. He sat back on the bed with a sigh, looking over, finding me standing a few feet away.

“Thank you for letting me use your washroom,” I said with a smile, snapping my suits buttons back together.

“Yeah, no prob!” _Jeremy_ chuckled, doing a little scratch at his cheek. He pointed at my clothes. “You sure you’re alright wearin’ your suit still? I could probably find somthin' around here that'll fit you.” Even if he could, the thought of wearing such appalling clothing made me gag. It would be rude of me to tell him this, for it is not my say on what he wore.

“I can leave without the fear of being bombarded with curious questions,” I reminded him, showing my watch over. Once the rest of my buttons were snapped, I came closer towards _Jeremy_ , sitting beside him now. His stare seemed to be in a fluster, eyes examining all over my body. “If you wish to see me naked again, all you have to do is ask,” I teased, curious on what he was thinking.

_Jeremy’s_ shoulders jumped hearing that, trying to sputter out an excuse, “Nah, it’s just– I ain’t used to seein’ your face! Takes a bit to get used to, ya know, with the whole mask and all.” Such fabric barely covered much, but it was enough to fool the boy in believing he was staring at something new.

“Disappointed?”

“Yeah, I am actually!” _Jeremy_ crossed his arms in annoyance. “I thought it’d be more surprisin’, yeah? You just look kinda how I’d imagined you would look and not much else. It’s like finally seein’ Pyro take his dang gasmask off for once and findin’ out he just looked like every other normal lookin’ dude. That’d be super borin’!”

I shook my head, “Not everything in life needs to be a surprise, Scout.”

_Jeremy_ grumbled a noise, his arms still folded as he fell back with a plop. “Around here it does,” he started to complain. “The whole respawnin’ crap, and that weird Marasmus guy and his crazy magic– it’s always one freakin’ surprise after the other! You could tell me that you were raised by rabbits on the moon and I’d freakin’ believe ya.”

Even I had to admit to that, for this job was out of the realm of normalcy after all. Such words made me glad _Jeremy_ thought the same– he had some semblance of reason, even if his own gullibility was the only thing protecting his psyche.

“You have found me out,” I played along with his foolery, shrugging my hands out. “But they were not rabbits, and it was not the moon. I was raised in the ocean, along with my loving crab mother and father who taught me the secretive ways of the _Spycrab_.” I did a snapping motion with my hands, mimicking a crab claw.

_Jeremy_ started laughing, hand trying to cover up his loud bellowing.

“C’mon– C’mon, Spy!” _Jeremy_ had trouble speaking as he continued his laughter, swinging back up and smacking at my shoulder. “Ya ain’t– Ya ain’t supposed to be sayin’ dumb crap like that!” His warm cheerful attitude brightened my own, exposing a sweet smile back.

“You know, I think I have grown to enjoy this _cute_ side of you,” I admitted, the boy finally ceasing his laughter. I saw the reddish of his face return before he looked away, quite embarrassed.

“Don’t be callin’ me cute now, _old man_ ,” he said, words becoming quieter near the end.

“You sure showed this _old man_ quite a wondrous time, oui?” My tone came off sarcastic, but the saying alone brought the boy’s sight back, surprised but happy to be praised on work he thought was not good enough.

“Hey, uhm…” _Jeremy_ began, shying away again, fingers picking at each other. “Can you run your hand through my hair?”

I said nothing but held my smile, reaching out and gently laying a hand on his head, caressing him. He let me do this for some time, taking in my touch.

“My bros did this a lot,” he quietly admitted.

Such a sudden confession halted my hand, unsure how to take that.

_Jeremy_ panicked and tried to rephrase himself, “Not totally like this– lemme try again! _Waaay_ back when I was still a little shitball, I really, _really_ hated gettin’ haircuts and I always made a big hassle ‘bout it with Ma whenever she wanted to cut our hair.”

_I do recall seeing some photos where Jeremy’s hair was unnaturally long._

“––And, of course, my hair started gettin’ stupidly long and my bros started messin’ it up just to annoy me and callin’ me girly lookin’ and all that crap– can’t really fault them for that, I was bein’ a stubborn little shit after all.” He began chuckling through his rambling, “Hah, I– I think it was when Ma started doin’ the same, and started makin’ little _remarks_ of my appearance that I finally caved in before she decided to force me into a dress or somthin’! Though, it didn’t stop her from pattin’ at my head either, ‘cause I think she grew to enjoy that.”

“I suppose at some point, you came to enjoy it as well?” I teased further, rustling his hair a bit.

But that only made _Jeremy_ go quiet, his bright sight saddening suddenly. My hand let off his head, focus straight on him, worried on what the issue was.

“…Ma was all we had,” _Jeremy_ began. “And we all fought for her attention one stupid way or another.” He paused, forcing another chuckle out, “Heh, I remember one time Jaxson– my fourth oldest bro– intentionally fell from a tree so Ma would get all worried ‘bout his dumbass for almost killin’ himself.”

“How foolish,” I commented with a head shake, which got _Jeremy_ to perk up even more.

“Oh, Ma reacted just the same! She wasn’t dumb or a push over– she couldn’t be takin’ care of all of us!” _Jeremy_ paused again, seeming lost in thought for a moment. “…Ma really did try her hardest for us, and it makes me feel like a total dick for bein’ so stubborn ‘bout the stupidest shit.” His expression turned serious, eyes focused on me as he said next, “So, yeah, I didn’t really mind if she gave me those head pats, ‘cause I knew it made her feel happy. And even if I’m not there to give her a head to rustle up anymore, I make sure to give her every last damn penny in my paycheck ‘cause she deserves it more than anyone else!”

I did not reply, my sight away, not wishing to expose the slightest hint of emotion back.

_Ma chérie_ was truly so kind to _Jeremy_ , even after everything that happened between us. There was a confession I had to admit to myself, for I left on… less than _excusable_ terms. Back then, I marked it down as just another wrong on my list– far did it deserve to be there, because it was not even close to a simple wrong.

_An utterly vile act._

I know.

_A most purposeful crime._

I know.

_Animalistic desire._

I… know.

_Jeremy_ seemed to have taken my long silence in a different light, his sternness going into a panic, “And– And I don’t really mind if you do it either! Not tryin’ to weird you out by tellin’ you all this or anythin’, it just feels nice in a general way and not always a sexy way. Not sayin’ you’re not allowed to do it when we get all sexy and stuff and––!”

“Scout.”

_Jeremy_ stiffened up and yelped a single, “Yeah!”

My smile returned, gently placing my hand on his head once more and telling him, “Thank you for talking about your family with me. And if I could, I would do the same back.” The flush of his face went utterly red again, lips pressed together and eyes down on the ground. Such a reaction made me chuckle, “Indeed, I have terribly grown to enjoy your _cute_ side.”

“ _Told ya… callin’ me cute_ ,” his mumbling was far too quiet for me to properly hear, but the gist of his _complaint_ was understandable enough.

_Jeremy_ leaned his head against me, settling it on my shoulder, taking in the comfort I gave. This was possibly the most quietest he had ever been, the two of us just sitting on his bed, the only sounds being the soft brushing noises I did upon his head. I dared not peek at my watch, for I felt the moment would end if I did. What little time I had left, I wanted it to be with _Jeremy_ forever onward…

Our moment together was interrupted by a knock on the boy’s door. _Jeremy_ lifted his head, looking at the door, the sudden company a surprise even to him.

We both scrambled off each other, _Jeremy_ wiping down his shirt and pants, making sure it had no questionable stains. No matter who was on the other end, I did not want them seeing me with the boy– this was a relationship best left in the bedroom. I snapped the switch on my watch to cloak, hiding further away in a corner as to not be spotted.

When the second series of knocks began, _Jeremy_ shouted out, “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’!” He did one last look over at where I hid before finally hurrying towards his door, opening it. And, the person on the other side turned out to be the Doctor. His stance was straight and proper, hands behind his back as he had patiently waited for his knocking to be answered. “What’cha want, Doc? I was tryin’ to get into _me_ time mode here,” _Jeremy_ tried phoning an excuse for his slow response.

“Excuse me,” Medic began, doing a slight fix to his glasses. “But I vas vondering if you knev vhere herr Spy had vent.”

“What, _fancy-pants_? Nope, haven’t seen him all day,” _Jeremy_ replied in a hurry, resting his shoulder on the door with his arms crossed.

The Doctor tilted his head and hummed, “ _Oh_? I could have svore I saw him valking vith you not too long ago.” That sudden confession almost made the boy slip off the wall, wobbling but keeping to his feet.

“No, no, really, I _really_ haven’t seen Spy all day! _Scout’s honor_!”

If I could move, I would be shaking my head right now– _Imbécile._

Even if the Doctor noticed the obvious lie, he did not comment on it. “Vell, he has an appointment today, and he’s in ze terrible habit of… _hiding_ ,” Medic’s tone was stern as he said this, his words not directed at _Jeremy_. It had to be, for such a reason was a straight up lie as I myself did not know of this. “Do tell Herr Spy zhat I am vaiting for him in my office, ja?”

_Jeremy_ shrugged, phoning his indifference, “Don’t know why you’re askin’ me, but OK.”

Medic’s sour frown turned into a light smile, thanking over before making his leave down the hallway. _Jeremy_ looked out, watching the Doctor go before finally closing the door and sighing in relief.

_How annoying._

“Pardon me,” I apologized the moment I uncloaked, hurrying to where the boy stood. “It is a shame we have to end our encounter here, but it would be best that I did not keep the Doctor waiting.”

_Jeremy_ only nodded with another shrug, “Yeah, I got’cha.” His reasonable response relieved some of my stress, rewarding a smile over. Before I forgot, I snagged my balaclava out from my suit’s pocket, placing it over my face.

“Thank you for today,” I hurried my farewell, preparing my watch as I headed over towards the door.

Unfortunately, as I feared, the moment I touched the handle, he finally asked, “Hey, uh, what’s the appointment for?”

My tongue did a soft click in annoyance.

“Don’t think we have that check-up today– oh god, do we?” He sounded nervous on this sudden realization, but far was his guess correct. Check-up was for another day, and our private arrangement is– _was_ something only the Doctor and I held. The Doctor’s judgmental attitude is showing, and he has no right to act that way– I will tell _Jeremy_ in due time, but that will be a problem for later.

“Yes, my appointment,” I said out quite casually, turning to look at him. “Just a minor head cold– the Doctor worries far too much on simple head pain," I lied.

“Oh… Heh, Doc worries about a sneeze but couldn’t give a shit if your legs were snapped in two,” he snickered at his own joke. Even with that said, _Jeremy_ generally seemed worried still, but did not pester any further. I wished to ease away his worrying, coming back where he stood, brushing away some hair on his forehead and pressing a kiss on it.

“You are always welcome in my room later, monsieur Scout,” I quietly mentioned, which made the boy go tight-lipped and red.

“Well– Well, I mean, don’t you have a cooldown or somethin’?” His sudden question confused me, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, don’t wanna be the only one gettin’ off if ya can’t again ‘cause, like, er… you kinda have trouble gettin’ it up.”

A pause.

My face puffed up, having to clasp my mouth to hold back the laughter.

“I was tryin’ my best not to mention it!” _Jeremy_ went into a fluster, utterly embarrassed at my silly reaction.

“You– You are a kind man, monsieur– monsieur Scout!” I tried saying through my snorting. “But I must confess, for you are utterly terrible with your words.” My say was a harsh truth, but far was I angry at him. He understood enough, frowning only slightly before smiling again.

I pressed another kiss on his forehead before finally issuing my leave, cloaking out the door. My sight went back _Jeremy_ for a mere moment, his warm smile and wave wishing me farewell. I did a small wave back before finally closing the door, leaving myself all alone in the hallway now.

For the moment, I just stood there in my silence.

“ _Irritating Doctor,_ ” my words muttered darkly, biting harshly on my thumb.

_That damn Schleu, he is purposely stealing away what little time I can have with Jeremy! I do not care what his moralistic opinion is– he should mind his own fucking business! Jeremy is happy and so am I– are we not allowed simple happiness in this hell hole?! I have done nothing wrong– I was only trying to fix a **mistake** I created!!_

_I have done nothing wrong!_

_I have done nothing wrong…_

_I…_

My hand went up my forehead, and I breathed deeply. I needed to calm down– I had the right to be mad, but to also not lose myself in my own anger. I took another deep breath, letting my hand swing down as I stared up at the dirty ceiling.

…The sooner I got this so called _appointment_ done _,_ the better. The Doctor may need to grow some patience though, for I dreadfully needed to change my clothes beforehand.


	20. Button

It was when I entered the medical room that I heard the cheerful humming coming from within, the person making the noise being the Doctor himself. One of his birds was perched on his shoulder, Medic gently petting a finger through its tiny head. He chuckled at the pest, praising it with sweet German nothings before he finally noticed my presence near the door.

“Ah, zhere you are, Herr Spy,” he said with a smile, walking over to one of the cages hanging on the ceiling and placing the bird back inside. “If you vere to remove your suit, ve can get started.” The Doctor continued on, hurrying to his desk next to stretch his gloves back on. When I had yet to move or say a word, he turned to look, a slight tilt to his head but his smile still held. “You are not shy about undressing in front of anozher man– oh no, quite ze opposite in fact.”

When my silence was only met with another questionable head tilt, I finally did as he asked. I walked over, unstrapping my tie off first before unbuttoning my suit apart, soon bare of any clothing around my chest. I sat on the bed, awaiting the Doctor as he brought the usual medical tools. Medic focused me down, eyes beading at every part of my still wetted skin.

“An afternoon shower?” Medic suddenly questioned, reaching a hand out and touching my arm, looking over the slightly prune skin. When I held silent instead of replying, that only made the Doctor chuckle out, “How kind of you to get yourself clean just for me, Herr Spy.”

“Can we make this quick, Doctor?” I snapped, pulling my arm away, not amused with the Doctor’s games.

“Oh, I do not recall today being a vork day,” he pretended to think over an answer he already knew, humming aloud. Silence was all I returned again, making the Doctor shrug back.

The examination went like always, Medic checking over my being and asking me questions I always lied about. His attitude throughout seemed more cheerful than usual though, an uncommon sight for the strict and serious Doctor.

Medic soon brought over a stick and swab and asked, "If you could open your mouth, ja? I vould like to svipe up some saliva.” I did such that, opening my mouth wide as he inserted the swab in. What I did not expect was the sudden forcefulness of the swab pushing through, feeling it in the deepest part of my throat as I gagged from the pressure. Medic saw my reaction and recklessly pulled it out, causing the swab to skid across my throat.

My body hunched forward as I started coughing, feeling the bellowing of my stomach coming back with terrible vengeance. The Doctor then hurried to grab a wastebin nearby, holding it close to my mouth. A mess of black and red liquid filled the bag, continuously gagging and spitting everything that wished out from my system. I felt the Doctor’s touch on my back as a form of comfort–– far was I going to let his reckless action slip pass though.

My stomach soon felt emptied, taking the chance to suck in some air and clear the harsh clogging in my throat. I heard the Doctor deeply sigh at the sight, examining at both the bin and the darken swab before flicking the stick into the liquid mess. He set aside the bin, and then began rummaging through his coat for a clean cloth, proceeding to wash at my face like I was some helpless child.

“And I can only presume zhese are becoming more of an occurrence?” He scolded, trying to act like I was not noticing the lingering touch on my lips.

I smacked at his hand and spitted, “Are we done for today, Doctor? Or will you continue to pretend that you can help a dying man.”

Medic was the one who said nothing this time. I take the lacking response as a yes, getting off the bed and grabbing at my clothes, proceeding to redress again as I stepped closer towards the door out.

I was only able to snap the first button on my vest before Medic finally spoke out, “Two months?” My sight went on the Doctor. “Or has it been zhree months already?” He chuckled next with a shake to his head, “Oh, I am sorry, but I am just trying to figure out how long you plan to indulge yourself vith Herr Scout.”

My tongue clicked, “Our private business does not concern you, Doctor.” My sight was away, continuing with the pesky buttons that refused to stay together–– this damned shaking in my hands needed to cease!

“Oho, Is zhat so?” Medic chuckled again, hearing his steps clicking closer. “My acknowledgement of yours twos sexual engagement is truly _none of my business_? Oh, Herr Spy, I vould even say zhat I know far more about your twos relationship zhan even Herr Scout does!” The clicking soon stopped, feeling the Doctor’s presence right behind me now. “As I said before, far are morals making me judge, it is just ze rules set in stone. Zhough, I doubt you vould get in much trouble here–– you have an excellent performance record for ze company after all… Scout, on ze ozher hand.”

My glare turned back on the Doctor. “Do not be foolish to threaten blackmail on the boy, let alone me!” I seethed through my teeth, invading what little space we had as I became face to face with the Doctor now. Medic held a stern stare, but that stare soon became a disappointed frown.

“…I vish you would not look at me like I’m ze bad guy here, Herr Spy,” Medic’s voice went quiet, eyes lowering down to look at my open vest. He then reached forward, making me flinch slightly from the sudden movement. When I looked down, I found that the Doctor had snapped another button on my vest. Medic continued to do this process slowly, carefully sliding the small piece of plastic through the cut slit. It was if he was working on an operation, concerned for his patient’s life for once than indulging in his hysterical bloodlust.

I did not speak nor did I do nothing throughout, just wishing to leave this place as quickly as possible, even if it meant getting help from the maddening Doctor.

“I may be a Doctor,” he quietly continued. “But I cannot understand exactly everyzhing zhat is going on zhrough your head–– removing your brain from your skull and cutting it open vould tell me nozhing.” Even the morbidity of his jokes sounded a little sad. “Lying comes best for you, I understand. But zhere must come a point vhere lying may not always be ze answer here.”

Once it got to the last button, he stopped. His hand then rested on my arm, gently squeezing it. “You are… a smart and vondeous man, Herr Spy.” Medic looked up at me with that familiar unnerving smile. “And I vould dreadfully hate to see you die wizh such heavy guilt over your shoulders.”

The doors of the Medical room swung open suddenly, Medic and I both reacting back in surprise. Heavy had appeared, carrying some sort of medical tank on his shoulder. The man seemed surprised just the same, stopping where he stood and staring back. Medic soon hurried off me, hands held together as the rubber of his gloves squeaked.

“Heavy brought new oxygen tank,” Heavy said, carefully placing the object on the ground.

“Danke, Heavy,” Medic thanked, his tone more stern and professional now. Heavy’s sight slowly went on me then back on the Doctor.

“Heavy barge into something important?”

“Non,” I was the one who answered, finally strapping my suit over my body. “In fact, I was about to leave.” I did a quick fix to my collar as I said this, finally proceeding my way towards the door.

Heavy was about to move aside, only for the Doctor to suddenly blurt out, “Herr Heavy, if you could kindly lead Spy towards his room?” I reacted back with a glare, truly at my wits end with the Doctor. Medic returned his smile, “He is not in ze most perfect state to be left alone at ze moment.”

“Da,” Heavy eagerly agreed with a nod, approaching closer.

“That is not needed––” I was about to decline, only to have Heavy reach out and grab around my waist, holding me in his large hands now.

“Heavy will lead way,” he said with pride, already hauling me out the medical room as I lose sight on the Doctor.

It was only a few steps down the hallway that I grew tired of this inconsiderate action, demanding quite rudely, “I do not need to be carried!” I attempted to smack at his chin, only harming myself against the firm bulk of muscle. Heavy took notice of my discomfort, carefully setting me down. I kept my footing steady, rubbing my hand through my knuckle to ease the slight pain beating off it.

“Heavy only worried,” he apologized. “Doktor says Spy is… uhm, very badly ill,” he had trouble speaking next, his thick Russian accent very visible now.

“Yes, I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut about such information,” I informed him of his loud bellowing, checking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

“Oh, yes!” Heavy placed a hand on his mouth and nodded. “So sorry,” he whispered next.

When I finished checking, a curious question popped in my head. I let my concern expose itself, asking over, “Has the Doctor mentioned anything else?”

Heavy quirked an eyebrow at first before shaking his head, his hand off his mouth now. “Of Spy? Not that Heavy can think of,” he seemed to answer honestly enough… I thought to speak nothing more of the issue just in case, turning my back on him.

“If you must, you can walk behind me until I get to my room,” I hurried my words, already walking ahead.

“Da!” I heard the man say, his loud stomping hurrying behind. “Make sure Spy gets to bed! And dress warmly and eat hearty soup– Heavy make soup, no trouble.”

“…Thank you, but some rest will be enough,” I quietly mentioned as we continued are way down the hall.

The walk was mostly in silence, my footsteps being muffled by the sound of Heavy’s large boots echoing against the concrete. Far is he a man of subtlety, his structure and height over exceeding my own. I would be lying if I did not feel afraid of his presence so close to mine, feeling the shadow over my being growing larger the more we walked down that lonesome and long hallway.

We soon made it to my room, no one spotting us to stop for mindless chatter and talk.

“This is enough, thank you,” I did not even look back at Heavy as I said this, reaching for my doorknob. My arm only stopped once I felt a firm hand smack on my shoulder, the sudden weight causing me to turn my head back in a frighten panic. Heavy had hunched down to my eye-level, his stern stare right on me.

“Doktor not show worry much,” he began, low and slow. “Not kind of man. Heavy accepted that from Doktor.” He paused for a moment, and soon expressed a more warm and friendly smile. “Heavy want to see Spy get better, da?” He then gave a hearty laugh, hand off me now as he smacked at his chest. “Spy big credit to team! Want to see one-hundred percent in battle!”

“…Again, I appreciate your concern,” I was again passive in my talking, neither having the energy to play on my usual façade nor wishing to converse any more than I already had. “I would like some rest now, if you please?”

Heavy nodded, being polite as to open the door for me. I take my time stepping inside, looking back to see the man giving me a friendly wave goodbye before closing the door.

I deeply sighed, exhausted on a day that was not even half-over. Perhaps I should not have told _Jeremy_ I was willing for more of his company–– he seemed worried enough to attempt any further debauchery though. Such thoughts were for later, truly wishing for some rest.

My movements were sluggish as I made it towards my bed, falling on my side. It was a rare occurrence that I slept in my suit, but sleeping with my mask on was far too much–– especially when it had been dirtied with my own vile. I let the cloth skid across my face before throwing it aside, not caring where it landed. And I just laid there, eyes still open, mindlessly staring at the slight crumple in my sheets. Soon, my sight looked forward.

What stood further away was an expensive dressing mirror, one I personally ordered some time ago. It was an object to help refresh myself, only for it to betray me by displaying my unkempt mess of hair and still open suit. And the more I looked at myself, the more off-putting the reflection became. It smiled, but my expression was still the same dulled look. Even as I lied there, my reflection moved, sitting itself proper, one leg crossed over the other. It happily checked through its suits pocket, taking out the lighter I threw away hours ago, happily snapping a new bud and lighting it in his mouth. It sucked aloud, blowing smoke in the air.

_You do not look so well. Maybe you should have stayed with the Doctor for just a bit longer._

The familiar echoing of my reflections voice began. Such a nuisance was enough for today–– I do not need to have this become a common occurrence now.

_You know, Monsieur Heavy was being awfully kind with you–– not a common sight for either him or the Doctor now. Well, who knows what the Doctor’s true motives are, but both you and I know that Heavy would think differently if he knew the truth. If I recall, he is quite the family man, oui? That is his excuse for being here after all. My, he is far from a gentle giant when someone upsets him–– but that anger would be placed on you, for I doubt he would think badly on Jeremy._

My reflection chuckled, exposing such an awful and wicked smile.

_Non, no one would be upset with Jeremy for falling easily into your degeneracy.  
_

Taking what little energy I had, I snaked my hand through my back, able to pull out my hidden pistol as I shakily aimed it at the mirror. My reflection’s joyful attitude dulled, just staring right now. He slowly spewed more smoke from his mouth.

_…You are truly going to take this to your grave, are you?_

And without any further wait, I shot at the mirror, the glass exploding, raining down shards all over my carpet. The only pieces left hanging on the frame were cracked, my reflection barely visible now.

My gun hanged from my fingers, carelessly letting it drop on the carpet. My back then turned away at the mess–– I will deal with the clean up later.

A slight coughing fit began again, agitating the burning in my throat. I swallowed hard, and then breathed out slowly.

 _...I will let the respawn deal with this problem tomorrow_.


	21. Difference

Battle had begun early that next morning, barely having the time to refresh and clean before Soldier barged into my room, chucking me into the battlefield with my pants still unbuttoned. A mere figure of speech of course, but such a thought is not an impossibility for the crazed loudmouth to do.

I wiped my knife of blood, finished with a recent kill as the aftermath left my suit a bloodied mess. Slight pain stung my arm where a recent tear was, more blood coating my skin further red. I confess, for the kill I just committed was not a clean one, my shaky grip making me miss a perfect backstab and nicking my enemy’s shoulder.

My hand went to touch my mouth out of habit, half way into realizing there was nothing to grab.

_Yes, no lighter…_

So much had happened yesterday, not finding the time or energy to search my room for a spare hidden away. All I could do was ask my flame happy teammate for a quick lite before a match, but pestering any further will just make me come off as a starved addict wishing for their next fill. I may indeed have an addiction, but I know how to control my cravings well enough to not come off so pathetic.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance, snapping my bloodied knife back in place before taking my leave of the murder.

The skirmish I had before was inside an abandon storage building, further away from the more hectic parts of the battle. It was the perfect place for Medipacks to hide, quickly spotting such a wonder across a long corridor. The sight of the floating case perked my mood, casually making my way towards the object.

“Christ, mate, yer lucky I was around to save yer arse,” the sudden voice of the Bushman rang nearby. I thought nothing of it at first, still making my way towards the Medipack–– the matter of him being the enemy or not can be a worry for later.

“Whateve’!” I then heard _Jeremy’s_ voice complain after.

I immediately halted on the spot. All focus went on the voices now, my sight turning on a room nearby. Quietly, I snuck closer, peeking around the corner to get a better look at the scene.

 _Jeremy_ sat lazily on a box, faced puffed up and feet swinging. The Bushman sat beside him, stretching out a roll of bandage from a Medipack and cutting off a large piece with his giant knife. Carefully, he wrapped the cloth around _Jeremy’s_ mangled and torn arm, the material slowly repairing the muscle and bone back into place.

“Not like I needed it anyway–– just got caught off-guard, that’s all,” _Jeremy_ tried to excuse the horrid wound. “Not every day that you see a Pyro pullin’ out their freakin’ axe, yeah? Like, what was I supposed to do?!”

“Have yah tried runnin’?” Sniper deadpanned.

That only got _Jeremy_ to scuff, saying no more of the issue. The Bushman shook his head, wrapping more bandages around _Jeremy’s_ arm.

“Just don’t make this a habit,” Sniper said, all finished with the bandaging now. “I ain’t no Doc, but I know he can be stubborn ‘bout who he heals.”

“I know, he’s an asshole!” _Jeremy_ was more than happy to rant aloud about the Doctor’s sudden mention. “He can’t beam me with that gun for even a sec? I’m freakin’ dyin’ here, ya dick!”

“The Doc’s probably the scariest thing here,” Sniper could not help but laugh at that.

I clicked my tongue, annoyed at such a sight but having no proper excuse to intervene. My back sat on the wall, biting at my lip as it itched at the spot where my bud usually sat.

As happy as I was seeing the boy make friends, I terribly hate how friendly he had become with that filth-ridden bushman. Again, I have kept a close eye with Sniper, and yet he has done nothing suspicious–– the man just refused to expose his true colors!

_Repulsive jarman._

I felt the shaking in my hands as I squeezed them together, trying not to make too much noise in case the loudmouths heard me.

 _Jeremy_ picked at his bandages, moping at the still-mangled sight. His other hand reached behind his back, taking off the bag he carried around and taking out two cans of BONK!.

“Here,” _Jeremy_ shoved one of the cans in Sniper’s face, making the man jerk back. Sniper just looked at the can with quite a worrying expression, not sure if he should even be touching the metal. “C’mon, you’re always lookin’ tired as hell–– don’t think I forgot about ya sleepin’ on your gun a couple days ago!”

“…That only happened once,” the man mumbled, embarrassment easily exposing on his face as he fiddled his hat down.

Even with the Bushman’s decline, _Jeremy_ still held the can out, shaking it slightly over with a big smile on his face. Sniper let out a sigh, carefully taking the drink and setting it on his palm. He irked an eyebrow at the object, hand not even attempting to snap open the lid as he just held onto it. _Jeremy_ was more than happy to snap the top of his, sighing in satisfactory once he finished his first chug down.

Sniper’s sight went back on _Jeremy_ , watching the boy take another mouthful of the sugary acid. The sight of the Bushman being so carefree seemed almost out of character, for he always held a permanent scowl whenever around anyone else.

But he was smiling.

His smiling is annoying.

_Damned filth ridden scum._

“Some days I wonder how a brat like yerself even got into this line of work,” The Bushman remarked.

“Ih ain’t noh bwrat!” _Jeremy_ tried complaining through his drink, choking on his own words as he wiped off the liquid that spilled down his chin.

The Bushman laughed, “Yah _are_ a brat, and I doubt that’s gonna change anytime soon if yah keep up that attitude of yers.”

“What’cha mean attitude–– Christ, fuck!” _Jeremy_ carelessly moved his bad arm by mistake, irking forward in pain and whining vulgarity under his breath.

“See what I mean? Now, oie, keep it easy on that arm.” Sniper looked as he was about to reach a hand out to touch _Jeremy_ ’s back, only to stop mid-way as it returned to his side, seeming somewhat awkward now.

“Yeah, whatever,” _Jeremy_ was quick to get himself together, sitting straight again. He pouted to the side before taking another sip from his drink. When he looked back at Sniper, he waved his can outward and blurted, “Hey, I don’t need a babysitter. Go scope some heads before Soldier starts complainin’.”

Sniper said nothing for the moment, doing another fiddle to his hat before standing up. “Right, I’ll git,” he said quietly, grabbing at his rifle.

“And make sure you drink that as well!” _Jeremy_ reminded, showing over his drink. Sniper shook back his own can, making sure he had everything before proceeding his way out.

My hand snapped at my watch, cloaking just in time before Sniper came into view. The man stopped and stood right next to me, but did not notice my presence close by. He gave a long look at the can, his slight frown turning back into a warm smile. He quietly chuckled, and then shoved the drink into his pouch, carrying his rifle proper as he finally went off his way. I waited for him to turn the corner, leaving my view and giving me the opportunity to greet _Jeremy_ alone.

I uncloaked, quietly making my way into the room, watching _Jeremy_ guzzle down more of that awful drink. The boy was so preoccupied in his sugar high he had yet to notice my presence standing right beside him.

Calmly, I began, “It seems like you two are getting along quite well.”

 _Jeremy_ could not help but overreact, spewing out more liquid. He then fumbled to grab at his bag, trying to get his gun only to twist his bad arm in quite an uncomfortable position. He groaned out in pain, falling to his side, head on the box and body squirming in place. I just let him whimper in his own foolery, watching as he slowly sat up again.

I looked at him, and he expressed a dumb look back.

“Uhh,” he could only blunder out, wiping away more of the liquid drenching down his cheek. I shook my head, and then began looking through my pockets to find some sort of spare rag I could use. “Heya, Spy! How’s it–––– mmrh?!”

Before he could blabber any further, I grabbed _Jeremy’s_ cheeks, wiping away the mess he continued to spew. He struggled a little, but soon accepted defeat with an annoyed frown and gruff. Finished, I stuffed the dirty rag back into my pocket. _Jeremy_ rubbed at the finger marks I left behind, even going so far as to open and close his jaw–– the boy can be far dramatic at times.

“If you are done being completely incompetent with yourself,” I scolded. “Please answer my question.”

Jeremy groaned out again, “Jesus, about what?”

“You and the Bushman.”

He only blinked back, honestly confused.

I rephrased myself and asked again, “I am merely confused on the _violent_ company you wish to hang around with.”

Another blink as _Jeremy_ was still processing my words. It soon hit him, nodding and smiling and shaking a finger at me, “ _Ohhhh_! Yeah, yeah I guess he did beat me up a while back.”

My arms crossed, still waiting for an answer.

 _Jeremy_ saw the scowling look, losing his smile fast. He tried to explain, “Hey, hey, gettin’ beaten up really ain’t the worst thing to happen to me–– burnin’ alive is, that crap hurts like hell.”

His attempt at humor did not faze me, my expression still the same.

“C’mon, Spy,” he said with a laugh this time. “It really ain’t that big a deal! Hell, If anythin’, _Snipes_ beating the crap outta me helped make me realize a few things ‘bout myself.”

“And that was?”

“That I’m kinda a dick! Well, technically I already knew that–– but it means so much differently when the last person you expect tells you! Or hits you–– you get what I mean! Cause, like, _Snipes_ doesn’t seem like the kinda guy who’d beat the shit outta anyone without a good reason–– unlike Soldier or, er… OK, maybe that’s just Soldier who does that a lot cause he’s kinda an asshole––”

“Yes, yes, you may stop talking now––” I interrupted only to stop, realizing what _Jeremy_ was calling the Bushman. “Une minute, are you giving each other nicknames?”

“Actually, I suggested the nicknames––“

I did not even let him finish as I demanded back, “I do not think you should involve yourself with monsieur Sniper any further.”

 _Jeremy_ gave me another stupid blink. His lips then curled up in quite a devilish looking grin, far a look I expected to see from him.

“I don’t freakin’ believe it.”

I was the one caught confused now, only able to respond back with a, “What?”

 _Jeremy_ got up, walked a single step forward and said with a point, “You’re jealous.”

“ _Je ne suis pas_! I am not jealous,” my response was far too quick, unamused to be accused with such a childish word! _Jeremy’s_ grin grew wider until he started bursting out in laughter.

“Oh my god! You’re totally freakin’ jealous!” His bellowing continued, having to hold his bad arm as his constant laughter was making it move slightly.

“Scout, I am far too old for such shenanigans!” My voice would not stay put, my own irritation getting the better of me–– mon Dieu it is not even noon.

 _Jeremy’s_ laughter soon calmed, just smiling at me now. He then took another step forward, invading my space as I was quick to take a step back. Again, he took another step. I was quick to realize what he was attempting to do, sighing in annoyance. Still, I humored him and proceeded to take another step back, the two of us repeating this motion until my body hit against a wall. He jumped at his last step, wrapping his good arm around my neck, pulling me down so we were face to face.

 _Jeremy_ moved his head in, lips barely meeting mine. Another sigh as I soon moved in the same, laying my lips upon his. It was a simple kiss at first, the next becoming friskier as I could feel the warmth of his mouth inside mine–– I must admit, I truly do not mind that sugary citrus taste anymore.

“ _Mn_ … It is nice to see you comfortable with our more private encounters,” I whispered as we parted. 

Another sugar filled kiss before _Jeremy_ broke away this time, panting back, “ _Hah_ … Well, I can’t just be a wet noodle all the time, yeah? Gotta take action–– ya know, get a bit pushy.”

“Is that so? Maybe I do not enjoy you being so pushy,” I teased.

“Crap, sorry!” _Jeremy_ had taken my flirtation in the wrong light though, hurrying off and keeping space between us. His once aggressive sparked had died, standing about more awkwardly now. Perhaps unfortunate events from before have scared the boy in some way–– I suppose I do not blame him, for it is better to play it safe than be needlessly aggressive. But… I do prefer a more aggressive approach.

“Pardon,” I said with a smile, walking closer. “My wording was not the best.” My hand touched his cheek, caressing a thumb through. “I am quite excited to experience your more _high-spirited_ and _wild_ self, monsieur Scout.” My head moved forward as I whispered next to his ear, “Especially in the bedroom.”

 _Jeremy_ flustered up, lips pursed tightly together. “ _Oh man, oh man,”_ he muttered cutely to himself, sight on the ground. _Oh,_ how amusingly easy it is to ring out that more docile side.

I quietly chuckled, blowing some air against his ear as his shoulders stiffened up from the feeling. My hand then drifted to his neck, fingers gliding along the skin. The sensation made him squeak a small noise, his tired sight on my arm now.

“…You’re bleedin’,” he quietly mentioned. It was unexpected to hear, far too distracted on both the boy and Sniper that I had completely ignored the slight pain still beating in my arm.

“Is that your main concern?” I ignored his worrying, pressing a soft kiss on his exposed shoulder. “ _Mm_ … Yours is in a worse state.”

“It’s feelin’ kinda better.” He did a slight wrist twist, able to move it about properly now.

Even when I attempted another gentle kiss, I was given little response in return. _Jeremy_ then pushed me away, making some space between us. “Let me go find the Doc,” he said, and in quite a worry as well.

I could not help but laugh at such silliness, “Scout, that is entirely unnecessary––” But even as I spoke, he had already left my side and was making his leave.

“You better stay right where you are!” He acted quite demanding, pointing at the ground.

I blinked at first, and then asked over with a slight head tilt and smile, “Was that a _demand_?”

 _Jeremy_ stiffened up again, stumbling terribly on his next say, “Uh… Er, no–– Yeah! Yeah, stay put, Spy!”

“Very well,” I just let the boy have his way, walking towards some boxes nearby to sit down. “But please do not bother the Doctor if he is in the middle of something important.”

He nodded back, taking a moment to pump himself up before finally sprinting out the room, leaving me by my lonesome.

_Simpleton, a Medipack was all I needed._

And as I said that, a new Medipack had respawned just a few feet away.

So, I got up and…

And…

For some reason, my body suddenly felt heavy. My footing stumbled, shoulder pressed up against the wall to not fall over. My bad arm began to shake violently, trying my best to keep it still with little avail.

_Merde, it is far too early for this!_

Even with this terrible shaking, I still reached for my gun, barely able to hold it properly in hand. Slowly, I brought it closer towards my temple, only for my arm to fall back down, fingers making it carelessly dangle to the point it would slip off.

_I cannot let anyone see me like this…_

Again I tried, and again my arm fell. I could barely keep to my feet anymore, knees hitting the floor. That awful swirling in my stomach started to swell, holding back any liquid that wish to spill. I breathed, able to fight the quelling for the moment. I take another slow breath, the shaking in my body settling, but still too weak to properly move. My sight went on my gun, finger still on the trigger. I give it another attempt, moving the gun towards my temple––

“Oie, oie!” A sudden voice yelled out. I had yet to register who it was before my arm was pulled away and my gun was pointed downward, the sudden movements making me press the trigger, cracking a hole into the flooring. “What the bloody hell do ya think yer doin’?!” The voice scolded further, stealing away my gun and throwing it aside.

I blinked a few times, and then turned my head to see who was even talking to me, finding it to be the Bushman of all men. He was in quite a breathy panic, hat and shades slightly skewed, looking to have run across the room just to grab at me.

All I could foolishly blunder out was, “Why are you back here?”

Sniper was most perplexed at the question. His eyebrows then furrowed, and he exposed his ugly frown. “What’cha mean _why am I back here_?” He spitted. “Hell, don’t even bother ‘cause I got the hint. _Bloody Spook_ …”

I was about to snap back before I grunted a noise, the pain already returning and making me irk forward. Sniper kept a firm hold of my shoulders, keeping me from falling over.

“…Do not touch me,” I tried demanding, but my voice came off so pathetic and weak. My attempts to push him off were equally sad, only moving his vest slightly askew.

“Stop bein’ stubborn, a’right?” Sniper wrapped a firm hold around my waist to help me upright, letting my good arm hang around his neck. Carefully, he brought me back to my feet, walking me towards the boxes I sat on before and setting me down, letting my back pressed against the wall for leverage.

“It would be best for me to start anew–– please hand me my gun,” I continued my complaining, either out of my own cursive pride or stubbornness.

“I’ll wrap up that wound for yah.”

“That is unneeded––“

“Just cram’it,” Sniper argued no further, hurrying to grab at the Medipack before coming back over, sitting next to me now.

The room soon grew strangely quiet, listening in on the sounds of cloth being stretched and snipped apart. I felt the slight pressure of the bandages placed around my arm, hissing aloud from the feeling. Even when the man tried to be careful, the roughness of his touch was hard to ignore.

“Said yer were askin’ why I _came back_?” Sniper soon spoke, bringing my tired sight over. “I bumped–– well, more like the kid bumped into me. Said you were all alone and injured, so I thought I’d be a good chap and give yah some company if you happen to bleed to death.”

“How wonderfully kind of you,” I muttered coldly.

The quiet returned again, Sniper circling more of the bandage around my arm.

“…Guess I got a bit worried about abandonin’ the kid like that,” Sniper then strangely admitted. “Should’ve been back with the others before he found me sulkin’ about. Worked out in yer favor though, huh?”

“I would already be back at respawn if you did not interfere.”

That got a chuckle out of the Bushman, “Suppose a bloke like yerself would be suicidal if it meant savin’ a bit of time. Really gets to me when I go gettin’ my head blown off or have a right nasty knife in my backside.”

A small smile formed on my face. I then raised what little of my hand I could, pointing at his shades. “Perhaps getting rid of those flimsy looking glasses would help make you perform better, non?”

Again, he chuckled, using the hilt of his kukri to fix his shades straight. He then explained whilst cutting off more of the bandage, “They’re like yer mask, mate. I’d be exposin’ myself if I went out fightin’ without them.”

“Indeed, but it is not like I cannot take it off––“

I instantly stopped, my expression going dark.

My sight was distracted on something sitting right behind Sniper. A familiar being that looked similar to I–– non, they appeared younger, and wore nothing to hide their face. Such an image was something I have seen plenty, and yet… and yet I never witnessed the figure outside my own mirrored reflection.

Sniper noticed my silence and widen stare, crooking his head back.

“What, yah gettin’ jumpy ‘bout Spies now?” He joked, sight back on me.

Sniper waited for me to speak back, but I was unable to explain what the issue was. “Pardon, but I wish not to speak anymore,” was all I could muster out.

The Bushman did not appear offended, showing off a smile, “A’right, just take it easy, mate. If yah feelin’ any worse, I’ll carry yah to the Doc himself. Probably will have to either way–– doubt the kid will even get his attention.”

I only nodded back, head turned away, trying my best to ignore the being entirely now.

_Oh, do give me a break with all these fake pleasantries._

It began speaking.

_You rather slit your throat than speak another moment with this man._

I tried to ignore it–– a vile apparition deserves no attention!

The figure looked at Sniper with a smile, reaching out and caressing a hand through his long neck.

_Such an ugly mug… What a waste, for his foul attitude is quite exciting. Ah, but witnessing his more docile side would probably be even cuter than the boy’s..._

Their hand smoothed upward, running through Sniper's shaved chin and touching upon his lips, tapping a finger on the reddish flesh.

_But really, why did you even bother giving hope to such a lonesome man? You should have made him wallow in his foolish animalistic outbursts. I wonder, I wonder…_

The being pressed its body against Sniper’s backside, hand going down his neck again before touching upon his chest, massaging his finger in a cutesy circle. And throughout all the touching and talking, Sniper did not once react to it, just continuing to cut off more bandages from the roll.

_To have such wonderful blackmail but not abuse it–– perhaps your age is making you lose your touch. My, the things you can do to this pathetic man. Oooo, I get chills thinking about it! Ah, but that would make the boy’s accusations true, oui? Openly sleeping with another behind his back… Pardon, sleep is far too nice of a word here–– rape, yes, you would be forcing yourself upon monsieur Sniper now! Oh, but a gentleman like yourself would never delve into such vile degeneracy… am I wrong?_

“Shut up…” My voice trembled.

“Hrm?”

 _Oh! I think I understand now! You wish to give him a false sense of companionship from his teammates before tearing it all away? Oh how delicious, how scandalous! My, he may not last long if such news spills_ –– _I wonder who will attempt to violate him first? Monsieur Soldier seemed eager to show off that brutish American passion of his. Ah… how awful you must think of your teammates if sodomization is the first thing that pops into mind._

“Shut up…”

_Am I wrong? Or am I not allowed the same privilege of thought? That is quite unfair, monsieur! Neither I nor you are different from each other–– you are literally talking to yourself after all!_

“…Oie, Spah?”

_Yes… In fact, you really are no different from monsieur Sniper either. He has done a similar wrong as you after all._

“Spah!”

My thoughts blinked back to reality, the image of myself now gone, but finding Sniper’s presence far too close to mine, truly disturbed by the heavy weight of his hands on my shoulders and that low tremble of laughter he spewed.

I was overwhelmed–– my mind had completely gone awry! And the next thing I knew I had my knife in hand, thrusting it forward, cracking apart the man’s glasses and slashing a clean cut across his face. Sniper cried out, placing a palm on the mark as the entire side of his neck drenched with blood. I did not stop at the first strike–– non, I attempted to attack Sniper again! The man was able to catch my arm this time though, keeping it in place as my knife stood mere inches away from his neck.

Harsh sounds spewed from Sniper's mouth, but it only came back as clouded static in my ears. I then felt a firm hold grab at my bad arm, the pressure making the blood soak straght through the clothe. Pain burned throughout my body, barely able to keep focus on what I was even doing anymore. The spur of strength in me vanished, losing hold of my knife as it dropped on the floor. My body soon fell the same, crashing against Sniper.

Sniper bellowed out more unintelligible sounds, soon hearing more join in with him. The felt the vague touch of another, but did not respond back to its shaking. My sight went hazy, barely even able to keep my eyes open anymore…

_I feel… so tired…_


End file.
